Easy To Start
by Red8436
Summary: Love is like war... After freeing his best friend from the HYDRA factory, Steve discovers there's a lot more to Bucky's new girl than meets the eye...
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer - I do not own anything associated with the Marvel Cinematic Universe or Harry Potter.

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 _November 1943, Austria_

Steve carefully manoeuvred through the weapons factory, braced to fight an enemy at any moment. So far, everything had gone to plan: he'd landed safely after jumping out of the aeroplane, successfully located HYDRA's factory, and managed to sneak on board a cargo truck just before it entered the facility. He'd had to knock out a few soldiers on his way in but he didn't exactly have a problem with that if he wanted to succeed in his goal of rescuing his best friend, Bucky Barnes.

He rounded another corner and found himself suddenly blasted off his feet. Anybody without his super-soldier body would've been knocked out cold by the collision with the wall but Steve was merely winded. He prepared himself for some sort of warning siren due to his being discovered but there was no sound. Stranger still, he stared in confusion at the spot where the blow had come from because, as far as he could tell, there was nothing there that could have attacked him.

He blinked to clear his hazy vision and realised that he _could_ see… something? There was a part of the dark corridor that didn't look the same as the rest. His mind puzzled over what sort of technological contraption it could be to throw him forcefully into the air but then he saw it _move._ Alarmed, he launched himself at it and it was only as he knocked it to the ground that he realised that it was a person. Amazed as he was, Steve wasn't about to take any chances and raised his fist to knock the invisible person out, but their voice cut him off.

"No!"

It was a female voice – with a British accent if he wasn't mistaken – and he stared down at the impressively camouflaged figure in astonishment.

"You need to get under cover," she warned him lowly and his brain was just able to function enough to realise that she was correct because somebody could walk by at any moment and he wasn't currently hard to miss. He kept a firm grasp of what he assumed was her wrist and pulled them into a shadowy recess.

"Who are you?" he whispered.

"Who are _you_?" she countered.

"I asked first," he pointed out.

"Well, I'm _not_ HYDRA," was apparently the only answer she was willing to give as she unsuccessfully attempted to jerk her arm from his grip.

"Neither am I," he replied.

"Yes, your extremely patriotic shield makes that somewhat obvious," she muttered. "Where did you even _get_ that?"

"Look," he said, his patience beginning to wear thin, "my best friend is being held here – I've got to rescue him. Bucky's all I've got."

There was a pause from the concealed woman. "I suggest we join forces, then; a rescue operation is my reason for being here too."

Steve considered her offer. He didn't want to put her in danger but, apparently, she seemed to be perfectly happy doing that of her own accord. Nor did he feel particularly comfortable with her believing him to be experienced in dangerous missions such as these. However, the odds were so stacked against him that he was willing to accept any help that he was offered.

"Agreed," he said, then frowned, "But I can't help thinking that I would be less likely to accidentally injure you if I could see you."

Her pause was longer this time. "All right," she allowed eventually, "But if things go wrong or we encounter other people, don't expect to see me anymore."

Steve supposed this was reasonable enough; if he was capable of such impressive camouflage, he'd use it at every opportunity too. He watched in amazement as the woman in front of him slowly reappeared in front of his eyes. "How do – "

"I can't tell you," she interrupted, correctly assuming he wanted to know how the transformation was possible. "I can't tell you _anything_."

Despite the gloom, he could see her quite clearly now. She was shorter than he'd expected – even with the extra few inches that her curls added to her height. Her delicate features fit well with her petite frame and her dark brown orbs looked up at him challengingly, as though daring him to make some comment about her unsuitability to carry out her objective.

When no such words fell from his lips, she told him, "I think the prisoners are being held down here." She pointed to a corridor that branched off the one they were currently in and he nodded.

"I'll go first," he said, noticing that she didn't appear to be armed with a single weapon or means of defending herself. He checked that the way was clear and then moved through the shadows in the direction she had indicated.

She was right. The corridor led to a large room where men were being held in cages. Four armed guards were patrolling on a platform above the prisoners.

"I'm going to disappear," she whispered to him, doing so in front of his eyes. "You take the closest guard, I'll take care of the other three." He was about to object the likelihood of that plan succeeding but he felt her brush past him and he realised the decision wasn't up for discussion. The guard nearest him showed no indication of being aware of either his or the woman's presence so he crept forwards and used his shield to knock the man unconscious. He grabbed the guard to stop him falling noisily to the metal below their feet and disturbing the other guards, but when he looked over to check on her progress, he saw that all three of her guards were slumped on the metal without a sound being made.

A bunch of keys landed at his feet, making a loud clang, which attracted the attention of the prisoners below him.

"Who're you supposed to be?" one of them asked as they peered up at him.

"I'm…" Steve looked down at himself and reasoned there was only really one answer to give, "Captain America."

He grabbed the keys and jumped down to the cells below, ignoring the confused reply of, "I beg your pardon?" from one of the other soldiers. He moved quickly from cell to cell, looking for any sign of Bucky, but he couldn't see him anywhere.

"Is there anybody else?" he asked the liberated men around him, "I'm looking for a Sergeant James Barnes."

"There's an isolation ward in the factory," one of the soldiers replied, "but no one's ever come back from it."

"All right," Steve said, trying not to lose hope of finding Bucky alive. "The tree line is northwest, eighty yards past the gate," he told them. "Get out fast and give 'em hell. I'll meet you guys in the clearing with anybody else I can find."

"Wait. You know what you're doing?" the soldier asked in disbelief.

"Yeah," he replied, trying to project a confidence he didn't quite feel. "I've knocked out Adolf Hitler over two hundred times." He ran off to continue the search for Bucky but soon heard the tell-tale chatter of gunfire and booms of explosions, soon followed by the anticipated alarm as the prisoners made the most of their escape.

Moving through the facility was much more difficult now but none of HYDRA's soldier proved too difficult to overcome as Steve kicked, punched and swiped his way through them. A couple of times, he came across a soldier that had already been knocked out and he heavily suspected that his mysterious, invisible ally was responsible.

He emerged onto a railing, overlooking the main factory floor. A loud, piercing whistle caught his attention and he looked to locate its source. He couldn't be sure but it seemed to have come from a corridor to his left. He could be wrong about the identity of the person who'd made the signal but he expected HYDRA would just shoot him outright rather than try to lure him down a dark corridor. As Steve turned into the passage, he saw a figure emerge from a room and both men momentarily paused at the sight of each other. The other man took a few nervous steps backwards and then fled out of sight. Steve ran a few steps after him but was distracted by a groaning voice coming from one of the rooms off the corridor. He cautiously stepped inside, and saw that the room was set up for some sort of medical procedure. A murmuring man was strapped to a table and Steve realised, with a mixture of relief and anger, who it was.

"Bucky?" he asked, trying to get the dazed man to focus. "Oh my God," he muttered, angrily pulling the straps off his body.

"Is, is that…?" Bucky asked weakly.

"It's me," he confirmed, "It's Steve."

"Steve," Bucky repeated slowly.

"Come on," Steve said, pulling his friend upwards.

" _Steve_ ," Bucky said with much greater lucidity and a small smile as he stumbled to his feet.

"I thought you were dead," Steve muttered as Bucky stared at him confusedly.

"I thought _you_ were smaller," he countered before Steve half supported-half dragged him from the room. "What happened to you?"

"I joined the army," he replied simply, before giving a little more detail about the procedure Dr Erskine's had put him through.

"Did it hurt?" Buck asked, attempting to walk on his own.

"A little."

"Is it permanent?"

"So far."

A huge series of explosions began as they came back above the factory floor and Steve urgently suggested they climb higher.

"Captain America!" a voice called across to him. "How exciting!" Steve looked over at the man on the other side of the warehouse, noting the thick accent and the red YHDRA symbol emblazoned on his black coat. He also saw that the small man he'd seen in the corridor earlier was standing behind him. "I am a great fan of your films!" A platform stretched between them and the man walked towards it with Steve doing likewise. "So, Dr Erskine managed it after all. Not exactly an improvement but, still… impressive," he commented lightly, and Steve realised that this must be Johann Schmidt, the head of HYDRA and the first recipient of Erskine's serum.

Anger swelled within him and he forcefully punched Schmidt in the jaw, making him stumble backwards. "You got no idea," he claimed.

"Haven't I?" Schmidt questioned challengingly. He launched his own punch and Steve quickly raised his shield in defence. To Steve's surprise, an imprint of Schmidt's fist was left in the metal. Steve reached for his gun but Schmidt was too quick, knocking him backwards and making the gun fall from his grasp. Schmidt advanced on him but Steve kicked him away strongly. The two halves of the platform suddenly started to retract and Steve watched as his enemy slid away from him. "No matter what lies Erskine told you," Schmidt called, "you see, I was his greatest success!"

Schmidt grabbed at his own neck and Steve and Bucky watched with a faint feeling of horror, as he pulled the skin off his face to reveal a shining, red skull in its place.

"You don't have one of those, do you?" Bucky asked, slightly disturbed.

"You are deluded, Captain," Schmidt called to him, "You pretend to be a simple soldier, but in reality, you are just afraid to admit that we have left humanity behind!" he claimed, tossing his mask into the fiery inferno below them, before making his way to an elevator set back in the wall. "Unlike you, I embrace it proudly! Without fear!"

"Then how come you're running?" Steve yelled as the door slid shut.

A further set of explosions erupted below them, forcing Steve and Bucky to climb even higher. There was a door they could escape through on the opposite wall so all they had to do was walk over an iron girder without falling fifty feet to a living hell below them.

"Let's go. One at a time," Steve said helping Bucky climb over the railing and onto the metal beam below. Anxiously, he watched Bucky inch across the metal but he saw that it was starting to crumple. It gave a shudder, and Steve was convinced that Bucky's loss of balance would see him fall, but he somehow managed to stay on. Bucky took the last few steps quickly, just as the beam looked like it was about to give way.

"Come on!" Bucky yelled, gesturing to him eagerly. Steve looked at the girder sceptically, not convinced that it would take his weight.

" _Go_ ," a recently familiar voice urged next to him. He turned his head, forgetting that he wasn't likely to see her. "It'll hold, I promise."

"Steve, let's go!" Bucky cried.

Understandably, Steve put his foot on the beam with great caution, gradually transferring his weight until he was fully standing on it. He hurried across it quickly because his brain seemed to be showing him that the beam was attached to nothing – it was hovering barely an inch below where it should be joined to the rest of the structure! Bucky clapped him enthusiastically on the back as he made it to the other side, and hurried for the door, but Steve lingered to look back at where he'd left the woman. Had she followed him across?

"Thank you," he said, unsure whether she'd hear him.

"You don't need to thank me," she replied, her voice just distinguishable over the booms below them. "You won't even remember me. _Obliviate_."

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A/N Thank you for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Thank you for the way you've supported this story - even if it's just clicking on to this chapter!

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"This is gonna be great," Bucky said enthusiastically. He expertly weaved through the crowd without paying too much attention to where he was going; leading Steve to believe he'd made the same journey many times before – or at least he'd pictured it frequently enough. "You're going to love her."

"Yeah, you've already said that," Steve pointed out, wryly amused with his best friend's behaviour, just as he had been ever since Bucky had first mentioned his girl, Hermione.

When it came to members of the opposite sex, Bucky and Steve's experiences couldn't be more different: while Steve had been fortunate if he could even find a girl to look at him twice back in New York, Bucky seemed to be able to charm any woman he pleased, so it was hardly surprising that the sergeant had gotten some girl's heart aflutter. What _was_ unexpected was that Bucky had similarly fallen hard – something that Steve had never witnessed before. Sure, Bucky loved taking a girl out but it would always be a different girl each night. As far as Steve knew, Bucky had never even been on a second date – and now he swore he was completely in love and totally committed to her! It was quite a change.

Steve was looking forward to meeting Hermione: he was curious to see for himself the qualities she possessed to make his best friend fall so uncharacteristically head over heels, but he was also hoping that Bucky's reunion with her would cease the sergeant's irritating need to talk about her endlessly. It had only been a handful of days since Bucky and the other soldiers had been successfully rescued from that HYDRA factory, but it hadn't even taken half of that time for everyone to get thoroughly fed up with practically every sentence that came out of Bucky's mouth being related to Hermione in some way. The situation wasn't helped by the fact that all of Bucky's personal effects had been removed from him during his captivity and he complained frequently about the loss of her photograph.

"I wish I could show you her picture, Steve," Bucky had muttered for the tenth time during their crossing back to England. "Then you'd see what I mean. But it's not only that she's beautiful – she's the smartest woman I've ever met! I think she read more books in the first two weeks after I met her than I've read in my entire life."

"That's not saying much, is it?" Steve replied and Bucky laughed.

"I guess not," he admitted before pressing on, "But just the way she talks! I swear I don't understand what she's even talking about sometimes because she's, like, on a whole other level of intelligence than me."

"Again, that's not particularly saying a lot," Steve teased, earning him a shove in response.

"She'd put you to shame too, wise guy," Bucky claimed, "You just wait."

"Hey, Barnes!" Dum-Dum Dugan (one of the soldiers who'd been imprisoned with Bucky) called over to them. "Tell me something: if this broad's so smart, what in God's name is she doing with _you_?"

Steve didn't even try to repress his bark of laughter at Dugan's comment and the offended look on his best friend's face. When Bucky had rather colourfully told Dugan where he could go, he turned back to Steve with the briefest hint of insecurity present in his expression – as though he really _did_ wonder why Hermione was with him. It was gone in an instant and Steve pretended that he hadn't seen it. "She's pretty fiery too," Bucky said, as though they'd never been interrupted. "Did I tell you that she slapped me the first time we met because she thought I was going to assault her?" Steve glanced sharply at his friend and Bucky quickly elaborated, "It was a mix-up; I was trying to help her."

"I never considered you'd be doing anything else, Buck," Steve said honestly.

"But there's also this, this almost _fierce_ compassion in her – she wants to fix everything and help everyone so badly," Bucky continued. "I've never met anyone like her before."

Steve affectionately slapped him on the back. "I'm pleased for you, Buck – I really am."

Unsurprisingly, Bucky had now taken the very first opportunity that presented itself to seek Hermione out.

"Not much further," Bucky muttered, though it wasn't clear if he did so to reassure himself or to inform Steve.

He didn't mean to bring any doubt to Bucky's mind but Steve couldn't stop himself asking, "Are you sure she's going to be there?" A couple of women walked past, clutching thick bundles of blankets against their chests as they hurried to get out of the chilly, November air.

For some reason, this made Bucky grin over at Steve. "She's there."

They turned a corner and promptly knocked over a walking pile of blankets with legs – or, more accurately, what turned out to be a young boy.

"Oi, watch it!" the boy cried angrily from where he'd fallen to the floor. He looked up, no doubt intending to give them a further piece of his mind, but he gaped at them. "Bucky!" he gasped, "You're back!"

There was another gasp and squeal from someone Steve couldn't see properly because she was moving so quickly to throw herself into Bucky's arms. He spun her around, clutching her tightly, and Steve looked away to give them some privacy.

"Here," he said, pulling the boy to his feet and picking up some of the fallen blankets. He was very surprised to find they were warm to the touch.

"She's just taken them away from the fire," the boy said, seeing the shocked look on Steve's face. "But they don't 'alf stay hot for long the way _she_ does it." The boy glanced up at the pair and wrinkled his nose at the way Bucky was whispering quietly to the woman whose face was buried into his neck. "Tell 'er I'll be back once I've dropped these off," the boy said before scampering off with the big pile of blankets.

Steve stood awkwardly, uncomfortable to be alone with the reuniting couple.

"Hey, come on," Bucky was muttering lowly, "Why are you crying? Aren't you happy to see me?" Hermione mumbled something into his neck that Steve was unable to decipher but it made sense to Bucky. "I know," he soothed, "But I'm fine, I promise." He held his arms out and took half a step backwards. "Look for yourself." Steve watched from behind as she cautiously loosened her grip on Bucky and her curls fluttered in the wintry breeze as she looked him up and down. " _See_ ," Bucky emphasised, ducking his head down to kiss her.

Steve looked away again, feeling… _something_. He was happy for his friend, honestly he was, but he couldn't deny he also felt a twinge of envy at the way Hermione so obviously cared for Bucky. It was a trivial concern with the war still raging, he knew that, and he was fully prepared to do whatever he could to bring it to a close. But, still, it would be nice to have someone. An image of Agent Peggy Carter flashed briefly into his mind but he shook his head, feeling that particular aspiration was hopeless.

"Steve," Bucky called, breaking him out of his musings, "this is Hermione."

He turned, smile already in place to greet the woman who meant so much to his best friend.

But as soon as he looked on her face for the first time, the smile dropped away in astonishment.

It was _her._ The woman from the Austrian HYDRA factory.

" _You won't even remember me,_ " she'd said to him.

The problem was he did – he remembered everything about her.

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A/N Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it!


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Hey guys! Thanks for your continued support!

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Steve was so caught up in his incredulity that he didn't notice the curious look Bucky was giving him. His best friend forced out an uncomfortable laugh. "Steve, come on; you can't go around staring at every beautiful woman you meet – especially the ones that are already taken!"

The broad, welcoming smile on Hermione's face had dimmed slightly at Steve's reaction but at Bucky's words she turned sharp, but still warm, eyes on him. "Women are not possessions to be owned, _James_ – nor men for that matter!"

Far from being put out by her rebuke, Bucky's demeanour lit up to the challenge. "Oh, so if I'm not _yours_ , which I consider myself to be, does that mean you wouldn't have a problem with me going out with another dame tonight, then?"

"You know very well that there's a difference between being in a committed relationship and believing that someone else is your property, Bucky," Hermione replied smoothly. "I would consider your choice of company tonight very carefully if I were you."

Bucky slung his arm around her shoulder and kissed the side of her head. "As if there's anywhere else I'd rather be."

They seemed to have temporarily forgotten about Steve, which suited him fine because he was still struggling with the revelation that Bucky's girl was some sort of… he didn't even know what to label her as: a spy? A soldier? Something else entirely?

"Steve, it's so nice to finally meet you," Hermione greeted warmly. "Bucky has told me all about you but, I have to say, you're a little different to how I'd pictured you," she said, her forehead creasing slightly as she looked him over.

"Well, I was working on old information," Bucky told her before grinning at Steve. "He might have packed on the muscles and inches recently but he's still the same best friend I've always had. If it weren't for Steve, I wouldn't be standing here – he's the one who rescued me."

Hermione's fake astonished look at this news put Steve's teeth on edge. "You would have done the same for me," he murmured in response.

"Yeah, I suppose," he admitted grudgingly but the warmth in his eyes belied the tone.

"Thank you, Steve," Hermione said, with what felt like full sincerity. "Thank you for bringing him back safely."

Steve still didn't really know how to respond to her so he merely nodded stiffly. There were so many thoughts and questions swirling through his brain.

"How long are you here for?" Hermione asked, looking at Bucky with thinly-veiled hope, "How long is your leave?"

"I don't know for sure," he replied, shaking his head, "but I think it's just a few days."

She nodded, looking disappointed. "I see," she sighed, and then forced herself to smile. "Well, I suggest we make the most of it then."

Bucky grinned back at her. "Oh, definitely."

On the sidewalk behind them, Hermione had more blankets and household items stored that Bucky quickly helped her hand out to passers-by. Steve joined them mutely, too caught up in his thoughts to even notice the small boy returning to finish handing out the items to the needy.

For the briefest of moments, Steve had considered that perhaps he was mistaken about Hermione and she just bore a very close resemblance to the woman he'd encountered, but once she'd started to speak, her voice was just as he remembered it.

 _You won't even remember me…_

Obviously, that was what was _supposed_ to have happened – he was never meant to be able to recall her incredible assistance in the HYDRA facility. That must be why she was acting like she'd never met him before. She must know it was him (even without the Captain America outfit) and he was entirely uncomfortable with the huge deception that lurked between the three of them. The only reason that he hadn't said anything about her as soon as he'd clapped eyes on her was in case she was part of a top-secret programme. In fact, he hadn't even mentioned her in his report to Colonel Phillips for the very same reason. As mysterious as her assistance had been at the time, he hadn't doubted her intentions in freeing the soldiers but, seeing her here with Bucky, uncertainty and suspicion swirled uneasily in his gut.

But did Bucky actually know? It was possible, of course, and he wouldn't exactly go shouting out about it if his girl was involved in highly confidential espionage and secret missions – even to Steve.

"Come on," Bucky said, patting Steve on the back, "Let's go get a drink." He pointed to the pub over the road and grabbed Hermione's hand.

Hermione smiled over her shoulder at Steve. "Drinks are on me," she said, "It's the least I can do for my brave heroes."

"Thank you," he replied politely trying to pretend, like she was, that this was the first time they'd met.

It was murky inside the pub and it smelled strongly of stale smoke and beer, but the man behind the bar greeted Hermione and Bucky like old friends.

"Here," Bucky said, handing over a pint glass brimming with beer, "Get this down you."

Steve accepted it and took a large gulp, anticipating an awkward evening ahead. He nodded appreciatively at the taste. "That's good," he admitted with a sigh before drinking some more. Bucky chuckled and nodded over to a table in the corner while he carried his own and Hermione's drinks.

"Thanks for the beer," Steve said to Hermione as they settled into chairs.

"It's no bother," she insisted, unconsciously manoeuvring her chair closer to Bucky so she could rest against him.

"So, what do you do?" he asked, keen to find out more about her to add further details to the picture – not that he was inclined to believe anything she had to say. "Where are you from?"

She let out a small breath of laughter and shook her head. "Neither of those questions have straight forward answers," she replied delicately. "I spent my childhood in a village not far from Oxford but, when I was eleven, I boarded at a school up in Scotland until I was nineteen. Since then, I've found employment here and there, mostly office work," she paused to take a sip of her drink. "Unfortunately, my parents are no longer around – nor are any of my good friends from school – and I unexpectedly found myself in London with nothing and no one apart from myself."

"Until you were rescued by your knight in shining armour," Bucky put in, smirking at her.

Hermione gave him an exasperated look before returning her gaze to Steve. "Or, more accurately, when a cocky GI wouldn't leave me alone until I allowed him to take me on a pity date."

"That sounds about right," Steve said, playing along in more ways than one.

"Hey, you're supposed to be on my side, remember?" Bucky said to him in mock-offence.

Hermione reached for Bucky's hand and weaved her fingers between his own. "You _were_ cocky," she told him but with affection, "and _extremely_ persistent," she laughed softly, "but you were like a light in the dark despair I'd suddenly found myself in. You picked me up – both literally and figuratively."

Bucky actually seemed somewhat overwhelmed by her words and gaze. "You would've coped without me," he muttered self-deprecatingly. "You can do anything."

Hermione shrugged. "I would have managed," she agreed slowly, "But not as strongly or quickly. And I never could have anticipated the happiness I would have in my new life and that's entirely down to you."

Steve took a large swig from his glass so that his mouth had something to do other than frown. Maybe he was an idiot, but Steve found Hermione very convincing. Judging by the loving way Bucky kissed the back of her hand, she obviously had Bucky completely swayed and, of course, it could all still be perfectly innocent…

The clank of Steve's glass returning to the table broke their adoring gazes and Hermione cleared her throat. "Now I do some freelance work, I go where I'm needed. When I'm _not_ needed, I travel around finding supplies for the people of the city – especially now that winter is properly setting in."

Steve nodded. He'd seen the supplies for himself but the vague description of her other work was indicative to him that her office job was a cover for her secret profession – whatever it truly was.

"So, tell me: what was it like to grow up in Brooklyn?" Hermione asked eagerly. "I've always wanted to visit America."

The conversation flowed freely between them as the two best friends told her stories of their upbringing in New York, but Steve never allowed himself to forget that there was far more to the woman sat across the table than met the eye.

After another round of drinks was consumed, Bucky excused himself to the bathroom, leaving Hermione and Steve alone for the first time.

Blood started pounding in his head as all the thoughts that had been in the periphery of his mind stormed to the forefront.

"It's so wonderful to have you here," Hermione told him. "Bucky – "

"I remember you," Steve interrupted, unable to keep it in any longer. "I remember what you did in Austria."

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A/N Thank you for reading!

It's been so awesome to read your responses so far. Thank you!


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Hi guys! Thanks for all those supporting this story - especially reviewers. Love to you all!

* * *

A wiser person may have kept their cards to their chest for a little longer in order to unobtrusively discover more of the truth. Although Steve had lately been equipped with a tactically advanced brain, he was still a simple man who wanted the answers plain and clear in front of him – he was a soldier, not a spy. And the idea that the woman Bucky was so plainly infatuated with could be nothing but a lie, made him feel sick and angry.

" _Austria_?" Hermione repeated. Her face was confused but he heard how tense her voice was. "What are you talking about?"

"Does Bucky know?" Steve asked shortly, ignoring her fake puzzlement.

She licked her lips quickly. "Know what?" she asked.

"He's my best friend; don't think I won't do whatever it takes to protect him," he warned lowly as her eyes slowly took on an expression of disbelief. "Now, I don't know how you're able to do the things that you can and I don't _need_ to know, but I'm not going to let you make a fool out of Bucky with your lies."

These words seemed to leave a sting and she flinched slightly, looking over her shoulder at where Bucky was returning to their table. "Not now," she whispered urgently, "We'll talk later, I promise."

Bucky sank into his chair with a groan. "I'm starving."

"Well, don't look at me; I've got nothing at home," Hermione told him, her mood noticeably damper than before her brief conversation with Steve. She seemed to sense his gaze because her eyes flickered over to him with a mixed expression of fear, confusion and guilt before she managed to get a hold of herself and she laughed. "Besides, you wouldn't want to risk eating anything I prepared, Steve."

Bucky laughed heartily. "Oh, jeez, no. I've never seen a more sorry-looking attempt at a loaf of bread and I nearly broke my tooth on her pastry!"

Hermione's cheeks flushed. "I've never been taught before!" she said defensively, "My school was more focused on academics than home economics."

"Then it's lucky you've got enough money to eat out most days," Bucky pointed out whilst getting to his feet. "Come on; let's go to that restaurant a couple of streets over."

Hermione got to her feet too but Steve shook his head. "No, it's all right, you two go on your own – I'm going to head back."

Bucky looked disappointed. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I've got that meeting first thing tomorrow and I don't want to be late," Steve explained.

"All right," Bucky accepted, giving him a quick embrace. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow."

"Of course," Steve replied. "I'll come find you once it's over." He looked at Hermione and tried to muster as much warmth as he could even though he hated being so false in front of Bucky. "It was nice to meet you, Hermione. You two have a good night."

Steve could feel Bucky's curious stare follow him out of the pub but he didn't look back.

He only got lost twice on his way back to his lodgings which he blamed on being too caught up in his thoughts. Sleep eluded him, much as he'd expected it to, and he simply stared at the way a slither of moonlight streaked across the ceiling.

Many hours later there was a light, hesitant knock at his door. He should've been surprised that she'd managed to track down his location but, for some reason, he wasn't.

He walked over to the door and pulled it open to see Hermione eying him warily. "Come in," he murmured. She walked past him, clutching the front of her coat tightly against her chest to stave off the chill, and he closed the door with a quiet click.

They stared at each other for a few moments, waiting for the other person to start. She was the first to crack.

"Protecting Bucky is my main priority," she said firmly. "Whatever doubts you may have about me, I want you to know that my feelings for him are completely genuine – they're the reason all of this has happened."

"You were in Austria to rescue _him_ , just like I was," Steve said, having come to that conclusion earlier in the evening when he was recalling their interactions in the HYDRA factory in order to make sense of everything.

"Yes," she nodded.

"But he doesn't know you were there or what you can do." Again, it wasn't a question.

"He can't – it's restricted," she admitted quietly. " _No one's_ supposed to know."

"Including me," he stated.

Her expression grew even more troubled but she nodded. "I don't understand why it didn't work," she murmured.

Despite his earlier claim that he wasn't interested in how she performed such incredible feats, he couldn't stop himself asking, "You can really alter people's memories?"

She didn't respond but he could see the truth in her eyes. "Did you tell anyone about me?" she anxiously asked instead.

"No," he admitted and a small amount of the visible tension in her dissipated.

"Why?"

"It was obvious you didn't want your presence noted so, partly because of how much you helped me save Bucky and the others, and partly because I assumed you're part of some setup that's way beyond my level of clearance, I gave you the benefit of the doubt," he told her. "I'm not sure anybody would have believed me anyway."

"You can't tell anyone, Steve," she implored, "It's not safe."

"For whom?" he asked, a little taken aback by her desperate tone. "You? Bucky? Me?"

"For all of us," she revealed gravely. "For everybody."

" _Everybody_?" he repeated in alarm.

She nodded shakily. "Potentially."

"What does that even mean, _'everybody'_?" he asked, getting frustrated with the way she would never give a full answer.

"Knowledge is dangerous," she said, "You know that; especially in the uncertain times of war."

He _did_ know that but it didn't reassure him in the slightest. "I've never kept anything from Bucky – I won't start now."

Her face showed a small flash of irritation. "I'm sorry, Steve, but this is bigger than your friendship with Bucky."

"I won't lie to him," Steve insisted. "And I won't let you deceive him either. We look out for one another; always have, always will."

"Steve – " she began but he cut her off forcefully.

"You either tell him the truth or you get out of his life!"

* * *

A/N Steve and Bucky are friendship goals! Ha! I shall update in a few days - I promise!

Red


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Thanks for the support you've been throwing my way!

* * *

"You either tell him the truth or you get out of his life!"

Steve watched as those words hit home and Hermione's face creased painfully, tears forming in her eyes.

"Please, Steve," she said softly, "Bucky's all I've got."

Steve shifted uncomfortably. Had he not said those very words to her when they were rescuing Bucky from HYDRA?

"He's the reason I keep going," Hermione continued tearfully. "I-I can't lose him." The heartbreak on her face made Steve pause and doubt himself. In the brief time that he'd known her, he'd witnessed the strength and confidence she possessed and it surprised him to see how fragile she was below the surface.

"Just tell him," Steve said, uncertain with how to proceed with a crying woman. Evidently, this was the wrong thing to say because her expression grew angry.

"I _can't_ ," she stressed and then shook her head, cuffing her tears away. "Damn it, Steve; you're making demands and talking about things you don't understand!" she claimed, stressing each syllable.

"I'm aware of that," he answered calmly, "that you're part of something I don't comprehend. I just don't understand how you can be in a relationship based on deceit."

Hermione clenched her jaw. "I _lawfully_ cannot tell him – I'm not just being petty and stubborn."

"I didn't say – " he started to defend but she interrupted him.

"I didn't intend for this happen but the persistent bugger just wouldn't leave me alone," she muttered, shaking her head. "I knew it was a bad idea but I was so isolated I clung onto the one ray of hope that I had. And if you've already fallen, you're going to do everything you can to keep that ray shining – no matter how stupid you know you're being."

Steve watched her closely.

"I _wish_ I could tell him," she said quietly, closing her eyes. "I so badly want to tell him everything," she said emotively, a fresh tear trickling down her cheek. "But to do so would endanger him in a way that I could never accept."

"But it's alright for me to know?" he asked.

"Of course it's not," she snapped. "But apparently there's nothing I can do to remedy that!"

"Am _I_ in danger?" he asked.

"Not if you keep what you know to yourself," she said evenly.

"You won't report me?"

"Things would be a whole lot worse if I did, believe me."

He did believe her. But he still didn't like any of it. Lies upon lies…

"You shouldn't have been in Austria rescuing Bucky, should you?" he accused and she tensed, showing that he was right. "You can do all those impossible things but you weren't authorised to be there."

"I work mostly freelance, remember?" she said, crossing her arms defensively.

If anything, Steve was even more surprised. "You got yourself across occupied Europe and infiltrated a HYDRA facility single-handed?"

He didn't need to hear her response because the look she gave him was telling enough. "I received intelligence of the 107th's defeat at Azzano and I had to know if he was alright."

Steve was still a little flabbergasted by the resources she had at her disposal but he was struck by the lengths she was prepared to go to in order to keep Bucky safe. Despite already being aware that she was an enigma, he had still vastly underestimated her.

"Have you ever been in love, Steve? Have you ever felt the way your whole world shifts beneath your feet or how your chest sometimes feels like it will burst from all the emotions you're feeling?" she asked quietly and this time it was _his_ silence that gave away the answer. "You said you would do whatever it takes to protect Bucky but so would I. And whether you like it or not, hiding what I can do is the best way to do that. I'm not downplaying the seriousness of this, Steve – if he doesn't know, it can't harm him."

"And what if you left?" Steve proposed. "What if he never saw you again?"

Hermione took a deep breath and regarded him seriously. "You know him better than I do. What do _you_ think would happen?" she countered.

Now it was Steve's turn to cross his arms defensively. What _would_ Bucky do? His best friend had never had a serious relationship before so Steve was forced to go with his gut and his insights into Bucky's character over the last few days. "He'll be heartbroken," he stated, "and confused. He won't accept that you're just gone. He'll start searching for you, asking questions." His shoulders dropped a little. "Questions that will lead him to harm?"

"It's possible," she allowed.

Steve nodded with grim realisation. "So you're honestly suggesting that we just keep things as they are; consistently lie to him?"

"I know you don't like it – "

"You're damn right I don't!" he put in angrily.

"But it's the best way to protect him," she insisted. Steve turned away from her with a sigh of frustration and sat on the bed, putting his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry, Steve," she said softly, "This was never supposed to happen – any of it."

He ignored her. He couldn't fault her in her love and devotion to Bucky even though he knew the couple had only known each other for a few months. He even admired her strength and the way she assuredly carried out missions across war-ravaged Europe.

"Goodnight," she whispered after an extended period of silence, but he didn't look up until he heard the door click shut.

He stared at the spot where she'd last stood and thought back to her earlier question; he _hadn't_ ever been in love. Sure, he'd had infatuations (and another image of Peggy flashed through his mind) but there was no question that any of those had ever progressed as far as _real_ love. Even so, he still couldn't understand her preference to live in a false relationship. Maybe it was just him? Maybe he was too moral for the real world? There would currently be countless others around the world who were lying about their professions to keep their loved ones safe; pretending to go off to work in an office when they were really carrying out acts of espionage or top secret experiments. He didn't particularly think that _those_ people were ethically incorrect; Hermione was no worse than any of them, was she? No, but the difference was that this was personal. The person she was deceiving was his best friend and, what was worse, _he_ was also now forced to hide that from Bucky. The feeling that produced made him want to punch something. Since his mother had passed away, Steve's relationship with Bucky was the most important one in his life but now it was tainted. Whether Hermione and Bucky stayed together for the rest of their lives or they separated in a couple of weeks, it didn't matter – the betrayal would always be there.

Their futures were all so uncertain in the coming weeks, months, possibly even years. But Steve knew one thing for sure: he would never forgive her.

* * *

Thank you for reading!

Is anyone else having trouble getting story/author alerts from the site when a fic has been updated or is it just me? So annoying!

Anyway, until next time!

Red


	6. Chapter 6

A/N Thank you for all the ways you support this story, guys!

* * *

"You look awful – was the meeting that bad?" Bucky asked as Steve walked into 'The Crown' - the same pub from the previous evening.

Steve looked at him in confusion, "What? No, the meeting was fine. I just didn't sleep well."

"Why not?" Bucky asked conversationally and then he grinned, "Has your bed got bugs?"

"No, I was just thinking about…" Hermione came into his vision, talking to Dugan, and Steve frowned. "Thinking about Schmidt." He sighed. There was the first of (no doubt) many deceptions. It wasn't a full out lie – he had spent _some_ of his evening thinking about the head of HYDRA but it certainly wasn't the reason for his fatigue.

"That freak will get what's coming to him," Bucky said easily, "Let's get you a drink. I managed to get the rest of the guys here – not that they needed much persuading when I said I'd buy the first round."

The bartender handed over a pint of beer and Bucky slid a coin across the counter. "So, what happened? They certainly kept you there a long time."

"Oh, you know," Steve shrugged, "Reports to different officials, verifying intelligence and planning the next steps."

"Don't you sound like you're slotting right into army life," Bucky chuckled. "But are you sure you don't fancy jumping on a plane back to Hollywood to shoot another movie?"

Steve choked a little on his mouthful of beer. "Definitely not," he spluttered, "I'm finally doing what I was meant to."

Bucky clapped him on the back a couple of times and then their attention was caught by some loud laughter from the table that was playing host to the group of men Steve had become friends with after he had liberated them in Austria. Dugan was looking a little put-out while the others roared with laughter and, sat amongst them, Hermione was trying to keep a smile off her face.

"God, Barnes, I can't help but feel like you've bitten off more than you can chew with this one," Dugan called over to them but his normal jovial expression was back in place. "I can see why you wouldn't shut up about her the entire time."

Hermione's brows creased together. "I beg your pardon?"

"Don't you think 'ermione is ze most beautiful name you 'ave ever 'eard?" Jacques exaggerated loudly (which was rather telling because those were the first words Steve had ever heard him speak in English), causing laughter to erupt again with plenty of knowing looks at Bucky.

"Just listen to the way it sounds," Jim Morita took up, " _Hermione_. The four most perfect syllables you could ever hear. _Her-mi-o-ne._ "

"All right, that's enough," Bucky called, walking over to them, and Steve was unsurprised to see that his friend was more than a little embarrassed – though his cheeks weren't as red as Hermione's. "You louts are undeserving of the presence of such a lady," he claimed, holding out his hand to her, making the group laugh once more.

"Oh, but we haven't even gotten started yet!" Dugan complained as Hermione accepted Bucky's hand and they began to walk back to the bar towards Steve.

"Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of," Bucky called over his shoulder before turning back to Hermione. "Are you all right?"

She looked at him like he was mad. "Of course! I was embarrassed on your behalf, not for myself."

"Oh, thanks!" he muttered sarcastically but she kissed him affectionately on the cheek.

The smile dropped from her lips when she locked gazes with Steve. He nodded in greeting, "Hermione."

"Steve," she replied politely, "How was your meeting?"

"Good, thank you," he answered. "Colonel Phillips wants me to head up a team that will specifically target Schimdt and HYDRA. We already know the locations of a lot of their facilities and we're going to try and wipe them off the map."

Bucky raised his eyebrows slightly in surprise at the abruptness of the news. "Wow, that's great, Steve. Congratulations."

"Thanks," he replied. "Phillips is even letting me put forward my own suggestions for my team."

"Oh, yeah?" Bucky responded, adopting a faux-thoughtful expression, but Hermione's face became worried. "Any names come to mind?"

Steve merely glanced back at the table where their friends were sat still laughing and joking with one another. "A few," he admitted. "What do you think they'll say?"

Bucky turned to survey the group too. "Well, they haven't got a brain cell between them but they're good soldiers," he admitted grudgingly – though Steve knew Bucky really regarded the men just as highly as he did. "I don't think they'll take much persuasion."

As it turned out, Bucky was right. After a moment of shock at being asked to take on the people who had imprisoned them, Dugan, Morita, Jones, Dernier and Montgomery-Falsworth agreed with something akin to enthusiasm. However, from the moment he'd approached the group, Steve had been aware that Hermione had quickly started talking to Bucky under her breath. He hadn't been able to make out all that she was saying but he'd picked up a couple of phrases like, 'so dangerous' and ' _please_ , Bucky'. He hadn't been able to resist glancing back at them a couple of times during his conversation with his new team and he saw both Hermione and Bucky talking emotively with troubled expressions.

By the time Steve had ordered another round of drinks for the team, the couple were more subdued and Hermione was gripping Bucky's hand tightly between her own.

Steve approached cautiously but Bucky chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. "See? I told you they're _all_ idiots."

"How about you?" Steve asked, his eyes involuntarily flicking to where Hermione was biting her lip as she stared sadly at the counter top. "Are you ready to follow Captain America against the enemy?"

"Hell, no!" Bucky replied instantly and Steve tried not to let his disappointment show. But then Bucky continued, "That little guy from Brooklyn who was too dumb not to run away from a fight; I'm following him." Hermione winced as though Bucky's words physically caused her pain, which neither man failed to notice. "Come on, sweetheart, I'll be fine," Bucky soothed. "I'll be with the best damn guys in the whole of the allied forces. Nothing's going to happen to me, I pr-"

"Don't," she shot at him, eyes blazing. "Don't you _dare_ make a promise that you know you can't keep."

"I'm sorry," Bucky said calmly, reaching for her hands again after she'd snatched them away. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. But you know I've gotta go. HYDRA have to be stopped. If you'd seen what I'd seen…" He trailed off and Steve saw Hermione's mouth tighten. He recalled that she'd seen and heard for herself what had happened in the Austrian factory – not that Bucky was aware of that, of course.

She sighed deeply and gave a miniscule nod. "I understand. I hate that you're putting yourself into such ridiculous danger but… I know that you're doing what you think is right."

"I'm doing no more than any other man would in my position," Bucky stated evenly. "There's no choice; we're just going to be doing what has to be done to get rid of these monsters."

She took a shaky breath and he pulled her into his embrace, kissing the top of her head.

" _I_ canpromise you that I'll do everything I can to bring him back safe," Steve said awkwardly when they pulled apart.

"You'd better," she replied seriously, without even a hint of humour.

The patrons of the pub started to quieten and the three of them looked around to see what had caused the disturbance.

Agent Peggy Carter walked into view, looking so beautiful in her red dress that Steve could understand why all the men in the place had ceased talking at the sight of her. Her eyes homed in on him with that usual, but confusing, look of gentle amusement, and he automatically stood to attention. "Captain," she greeted.

"Agent Carter," he responded formally.

Bucky also stood straighter. "Ma'am," he said, but Peggy didn't even acknowledge him.

"Howard has some equipment for you to try," she informed him, walking closer, as Bucky and Hermione watched the exchange closely. "Tomorrow morning?" Peggy proposed.

Steve nodded. "Sounds good."

She glanced back through the pub to where his new team were loudly, and somewhat drunkenly, dominating the singing around the piano. "I see your top squad is prepping for duty," she said wryly and Steve smiled.

"You don't like music?" Bucky asked in surprise.

"I do, actually," she replied, still not removing her gaze from Steve. "I might even, when this is all over, go dancing." A rush of energy surged through him as her words harked back to a previous conversation of theirs in New York, but he somehow found himself stuck for anything to say.

"Then what are you waiting for?" Bucky asked, stepping up instead. "We're heading out to go dancing after this. You should join us."

A ripple of fear went through Steve's mind at the prospect. That was ridiculous, wasn't it? He was calm enough about tackling a deadly, technologically-advanced organisation in war-ravaged Europe but the notion of trying to dance with Peggy and making a fool of himself in some way (which was almost a certainty) left him more than a little perturbed. Perhaps his feelings showed on his face a little because, after a moment of consideration, she said, "Perhaps another time," she answered politely before issuing a final instruction, "0800, Captain."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be there," he answered.

Then, with a final lingering look, she turned and walked away, everyone's eyes watching her go.

" _Wow_ ," Bucky murmured pointedly, eyebrows raised. "She didn't even look at me _once_."

"Why do you sound so surprised?" Hermione asked.

"Well, come on, it _is_ a little surprising, isn't it?" Bucky boasted, indicating himself.

"That's a matter of opinion," she replied with a shrug, "But, more importantly, when she's obviously so interested in Steve and _you've_ told me on many occasions how much you love _me_ ; why do you care?"

Bucky blinked twice and Steve felt a tiny bit sorry for his friend being under such scrutiny. "I don't," he said with forced easiness, but he obviously felt like that wasn't convincing enough because he added, "I invited her to come out dancing with us, didn't I?"

"So that _Steve_ can dance with her?" she asked, looking for clarification.

"Of course!" Bucky insisted to Hermione's watchful expression. "I'm just trying to help my best friend out."

Hermione upheld her countenance for a few more moments and then she laughed. "Relax – I'm just teasing you."

Bucky's shoulders noticeably dropped with relief as he shook his head at her with a ragged smile. "Minx," he murmured, swooping down to catch her lips in a quick kiss.

Steve felt a pang of jealousy at how easily they interacted with each other; even _he_ was aware (stupid as he was when it came to women) that Peggy liked him but he still didn't know what to say around her most of the time – and he was also still very unclear about her relationship with Howard Stark…

"So, dancing: you in?" Bucky questioned him, arm slung comfortably around Hermione's shoulders again. Her lively gaze faltered when it moved away from Bucky towards Steve, and his own spirits dipped further. It was as though they'd both temporarily forgotten their earlier disagreements but it had soon come rearing right back at them.

"No," he answered shortly. "You're alright. Besides, you know how bad I am at dancing."

"Well, why don't you dance with Hermione?" Bucky proposed, much to the alarm of the other two (not that they were going to show it) "She can teach you – she's only just begun herself." He looked down at her, unaware of how resolutely against the idea she must be, "You could barely move without almost tripping over when we first met, remember?" he laughed.

Her cheeks flushed red. "I told you: we didn't dance like that at school," she muttered defensively.

Bucky tsked loudly. "All work and no play – your school sounds so dull."

Hermione let out a short breath of laughter. "It might have been many things but I can promise you that my school was never dull."

Bucky shrugged and then looked at Steve. "So, what do you say? It'd be good to have a bit of practice to get you ready for your all-important dance with Agent Carter, huh?"

"No, you two go and enjoy your night – I don't think it'll be long before we're moving out to take down our first target," Steve said. He didn't particularly want to lower anyone's spirits even further but he was prepared to remind them of the uncertainty ahead if it meant he didn't have to spend more time with Hermione and her lies.

His argument worked, though, for the couple left not two minutes later. Steve felt another stab of jealousy at their comfortability with each other as he saw how easily Hermione slotted into Bucky's side, arms wrapped around each other, as they departed into the night.

* * *

A/N Thank you for reading!


	7. Chapter 7

A/N Thanks for all your support!

* * *

"All set?" Bucky asked from the doorway, pack slung over his back. Steve cast his eyes over his own methodically packed equipment and nodded. Bucky walked forwards, his gaze focused on an item that was set casually against the wall. "What did you say this was made from again?" he asked, lifting the newly acquired red, white and blue shield up to his eyes for closer inspection.

"Vibranium," Steve replied, "That's what Stark called it anyway."

He watched, a little amused, as Bucky practised a few manoeuvres with the shield gripped in his hand. Bucky nodded appreciatively at the way it sliced through the air and he rapped it a couple of times with his knuckles. "Good absorption," he commented. "How does it do against gunfire?"

Steve opened his mouth to respond but something in Bucky's tone and demeanour made him pause. Steve frowned and Bucky grinned mischievously. "Who told you?" Steve asked.

"Does it matter?" Bucky responded, shrugging, still clearly amused. "What sort of idiotic thing did you do to piss off a woman – who quite obviously likes you – so severely, that she would empty the barrel of a gun at you?"

Steve frowned at the way he'd had to hold up the shield to defend himself from Peggy's rapid shots a few days ago. "It was a misunderstanding," he revealed, "A few misunderstandings actually." His concerns about her relationship with Stark had been cleared up by his recent comprehension of the term 'fondue', but he didn't have much of a defence for how she'd found him with his lips pressed up against another woman's… The blonde private had been extremely forward in her advances and Steve had tried to politely refuse them and, though she had initiated the kiss, he'd made no effort to pull away until Peggy had interrupted them. He explained all this to Bucky, who still looked more amused than sympathetic.

"I don't know," Bucky muttered shaking his head. "You save a few hundred lives from a psychopath in Austria and, all of a sudden, women are throwing themselves at you!"

"That's not," Steve began, then frowned, "Peggy, she, she's…"

Bucky gaped at him slightly. "Oh, God, you can't even talk _about_ her, let alone _to_ her!"

"Yeah, well, she's not actually talking to _me_ at the moment – outside of giving me orders," Steve admitted, taking the shield back off Bucky.

"She'll come round," Bucky reassured with a pat on the back.

"What makes you so sure?" Steve asked, wanting to believe him.

"Why, my impeccable judgement when it comes to women, of course!" Bucky laughed and Steve forced himself to do so too (and hated himself slightly for doing it). "By the way," Bucky said as Steve shouldered the rest of his gear, "you haven't told me what you think of Hermione."

And wasn't that a very interesting question? Despite not particularly wanting to, Steve often found himself thinking of Hermione – or, more accurately, the hole her lies had carved into his friendship with Bucky. He knew he couldn't tell Bucky his _true_ opinion of Hermione because, if he was honest with himself, Steve hadn't really gotten her figured out yet.

He thought back to what Bucky, himself, had told him about her: how intelligent, beautiful, feisty and compassionate she was. In the few social events they'd had since first meeting a week and a half ago, Steve had seen evidence of it all. Steve's opinion of her would actually be very high indeed – if it weren't for the fact that she was hiding her full self from Bucky. However, a more positive thing that Bucky may only have an inkling of – certainly not as thorough an understanding as Steve – was her loyalty and devotion to Bucky; that single-handed, unauthorised rescue mission deep in occupied Europe spoke for itself! Steve had done the same, of course, but he'd known Bucky his whole life and he'd been given the credit for it all, whereas everyone was none-the-wiser about her part in the liberation, as she had very much insisted. Even her refusal to tell Bucky about all her secret work was admirable in its way – supposing she was telling the truth about him being endangered if he became aware. Steve had no doubt that Bucky would be accepting of the truth (and would probably only end up loving Hermione and her inner strength even _more_ ) and Steve couldn't help but think that it would make their relationship even stronger if she didn't have to feel the guilt of constantly lying to him all the time (Steve knew that she felt that way because he frequently saw it flash across her face when he caught her eye). But _still_ she wouldn't tell Bucky the truth.

And those were just his thoughts on the things he _did_ know about Hermione. As he was more than aware, there was plenty more to her than she was willing to share.

But Bucky didn't want to hear all this and nor, much to his frustration, could Steve tell him. Instead, he said, "She's everything you told me she was. It's obvious she loves you very much," he added, which was true enough. Bucky looked very pleased about this as they started to make their way out of the base then, before he could stop himself, Steve questioned, "But how much do you really _know_ about her?"

"What?" Bucky frowned at him.

"I mean, everything you know about her has come _from_ her, hasn't it?" Steve pointed out. He felt bad even as he said it but maybe it was worth making Bucky think with his head and not his heart for a moment. "How do you know that anything she's told you is true?"

Bucky paused in the hallway, looking confused and a little hurt. "What are you doing? What is this?"

"I'm just looking out for you," Steve insisted, holding up a peaceful hand, "That's all."

"You're being ridiculous," Bucky muttered. "You don't know Hermione like I do, Steve."

"Of course I don't, but – "

"I don't know _everything_ about her but I don't need to," Bucky said simply, seemingly surprised that he even had to explain this. "I know _her_ and that's enough."

Countless thoughts were on the tip of his tongue but Steve bit them back. "OK," he said slowly, "OK, I'm sorry, Buck."

Bucky looked at him curiously again for a moment before restarting their journey out to the military truck that would take them to the air strip to begin their first assault on HYDRA. The rest of the team were already loading up and starting to take their seats under the canopy.

It was a grey, drizzly December afternoon and they walked quickly over to the vehicle, eager not to miss their designated take-off time. Steve was somewhat aware of Bucky surveying the area but his best friend just huffed and carried on walking.

"Looking for something, Barnes?" Dugan called, leaning against the back of the truck, bowler hat firmly in place atop his head. Bucky began to deny this but then Dugan stepped aside to reveal a grinning Hermione and Steve could practically feel the relief and pleasure roll off his best friend.

"I thought for a moment you weren't coming," Bucky said to her, dumping his stuff at once so that he could wrap his arms around her.

"Are you kidding?" she asked, eyes bright, "I've been waiting out here for half an hour! I made everyone sandwiches for the journey."

"When you say 'made'…?" Bucky said and Hermione rolled her eyes with a grin.

"I didn't bake the bread, I only assembled them, I promise," she replied, hands up around the back of his neck.

Steve left them to their goodbyes and helped the others finish loading up. They weren't scheduled to return to Britain for a few weeks – much to Hermione's dismay – because they planned to take out a few HYDRA bases in quick succession.

When everything and everyone else was on board, Steve hovered awkwardly near the embracing couple. Sensing Steve's hesitancy in separating them, Dugan shouted noisily, "Hey, lovebirds! Break it up! We gotta go."

Their heads parted briefly before Bucky kissed her again once, twice. Her fingers were still grabbing his uniform tightly. Steve climbed on board, hoping they'd be done by time he was sat down. He saw that they were now no longer kissing but Hermione's tear streaked face made him feel even more uncomfortable.

"I love you," Steve heard Bucky murmur quietly to her as he took the opposite seat.

"I love you too," she whispered and he leant out of the back to kiss her again. Steve banged twice on the side of the truck and their driver started to pull the vehicle away, forcing the couple to split. Bucky stood up as they picked up speed, craning his head out from under the canopy to be able to see her better.

"Good God," Montgomery-Falsworth muttered, staring at Bucky, "Have you ever seen anyone so hopelessly besotted."

Dugan opened his mouth to make some witty remark, no doubt, but their attention was diverted back to Bucky again when he unexpectedly called, "Marry me!"

Steve whipped his head round in shock and looked out the back to where Hermione's figure was already rapidly diminishing in size.

" _What?_ " came her confused yell. Steve couldn't tell whether she had been unable to hear Bucky or she was just taken aback by the question.

"WILL YOU MARRY ME?" Bucky roared.

Even with the ever increasing distance between them, Steve still saw her mouth drop open. Bucky was gripping the side of the truck tightly, awaiting her answer anxiously. She was getting smaller and smaller. He couldn't be sure, but Steve felt her eyes flicker to him for a split second, nothing more, and then the truck turned a corner and she was gone.

* * *

A/N To be fair, I haven't given you guys a cliffhanger for a while.

Don't forget to let me know if you enjoyed the chapter!

Until next time!

Red


	8. Chapter 8

A/N Hey guys! I'm SO sorry that it took this long to update you all. Thank you for all your love from the last chapter - it's much appreciated.

* * *

 _June 1943, London_

 _She was aware of the hands on her shoulder and back of her head before she was really conscious of anything else. Her instincts from those months in hiding, fearing for her life, reared up and, without thinking or even opening her eyes, she lashed out physically at the person who was attacking her. She felt her palm make contact with flesh._

 _A deep voice came from the person and, though her mind was too disorientated to pick out the individual words, the tone was reassuring and soothing. This didn't necessarily mean that she was safe so she tried to open her eyes. Her head throbbed painfully and she aborted her attempt, instead deciding to focus on trying to remember what had happened to bring her to this point._

 _That deep voice started up again, interrupting her thoughts, and she sensed herself being lifted off the ground. Her brain felt as though it was being tuned like a radio as only a couple of the words started to get through to her:_ help _and_ name _._

 _Her mouth moved and she gave a low moan that was meant to be some sort of response but her body just_ wasn't _functioning the way she wanted it to – the way she_ needed _it to. And then, with a whoosh, her mind and body suddenly reconnected. Her eyes flew open and she started pushing at the person who was holding her, nearly causing them to drop her._

" _Hey, woah, woah, woah," he (for it was quite clearly a man) said quickly, "Calm down."_

" _Let me go!" she demanded as she struggled to get out of his arms._

" _It's alright, I'm taking you to get some help," he said, but his voice sounded strained and extremely unfamiliar._

" _I'm_ fine _," she insisted, beginning to get frustrated. "I don't need any help. Please, put me down."_

 _He stopped moving but still held her against him. "You were unconscious; someone needs to check you over." She finally noticed, much to her surprise, that they sky was dark and a wave of confusion flew across her face. "Do you remember your name?" he asked, noticing her puzzlement._

" _Hermione," she responded instantly._

"Hermione? _" he repeated a little uncertainly, stumbling over the word. She glanced sharply at him, really looking at him for the first time. In the murkiness of the night, it was difficult to make him out clearly, but he seemed to be a similar age to herself and (despite his unfamiliarity with her name) his eyes seemed concerned as he gazed down at her._

" _Yes, Hermione," she confirmed, pronouncing it clearly to show she was perfectly lucid. "Hermione Granger. What's yours?"_

" _Bucky," he replied shortly._

 _And it was her turn to repeat the word with a little disbelief. "Bucky?!" What sort of a name was that?_

 _He nodded. "Sergeant Bucky Barnes, at your service, ma'am."_

 _She stared at him curiously for a moment then said, "Well, Sergeant Barnes, I would very much appreciate it if you could put me down. I assure you that I'm perfectly well."_

 _She felt him watching her closely but he did as requested, carefully lowering her legs to the ground. Hermione nodded her head in thanks, brushing herself down, and then looked around her._

 _The expression on her face must have prompted him to ask, "Do you know where you are?" She pressed her lips into a very thin line and started walking out of the side road they were currently standing in so that she could get a better grip on her bearings because the answer to his question was that she didn't have the slightest idea. "Do you know what_ day _it is?" he asked, following her closely._

 _She rolled her eyes, despite her slight anxiety, because_ of course _she knew what day it was. "Twenty-third of October," she told him confidently._

 _There was a beat of silence and then two things happened that turned her world upside down. "It's the twenty-eighth of June," Bucky told her concernedly at the same time that she made it to the main road and saw the old-fashioned cars going past, the style of clothing people wore and the patriotic posters stuck up on the walls that cried for people to keep doing all they could to defeat Hitler…_

* * *

Hermione had stared at the spot where the van had rounded the corner, where Bucky had last been in her sight, for quite some time. Even now, weeks later, she still felt a whirl of emotions whenever she thought back to that grey afternoon.

Honestly, she was still a little shocked but her overriding emotion was one of love; the sweeping love she felt for Bucky and the sheer empowerment of the love that she felt from him in return. But, invariably, those feelings of love would gradually evolve into fear and uncertainty because, no matter how much she had vowed to make the most of her new life, there was always a part of her that thought, however impossible it seemed, that she might end up back where she belonged one day.

Her relationship with Bucky was complicated enough when you factored in her magic but the time-travel element made it much more problematical. It was not unknown for witches and wizards to share their abilities with their significant others but she just could not take that risk. It wasn't a question of trust – she had utter faith in Bucky – but there were two main reasons why she wouldn't let herself tell him that she was a witch.

Firstly, she couldn't risk members of the magical community finding out there was a breach in the International Statute of Secrecy because their investigations would lead to their discovery of _her:_ a woman in the wrong time. She'd done her best to stay away from magic users; limiting herself to trips into Diagon Alley only when it was necessary, as well as a single exploration into the Ministry Headquarters to try and discover (albeit, unsuccessfully) how she had ended up so far in the past. She knew how important it was not to affect the future and there were people in the magical world – people who knew her in the future – that she _had_ to avoid in order to prevent any disturbances to the timeline, which was why she had remained in the muggle world as much as possible. If she _were_ to be discovered, any number of events could be set into motion that may very well change the course of history and there was certainly no way that they would let Bucky have the knowledge that time travel was possible. There was no possibility of her letting a witch or wizard mess with Bucky's mind – particularly when he was in the middle of fighting a war. And the war was the second reason why she wasn't willing to tell him about her magic.

She knew that Bucky would never intentionally say something that would betray her but maybe it was all the 'Careless Talk Costs Lives' posters she saw around London that helped convince her to keep her secrets to herself. She could only imagine what would have happened to Bucky if his captors at HYDRA had managed to torture out of him the knowledge of magic. She'd seen the room where he'd been held for herself – it was more of a laboratory than anything – and it wouldn't surprise her to know that HYDRA had created devices or substances that would make somebody reveal their darkest secrets without even knowing what they were doing. And, with Bucky hell-bent on taking HYDRA on whenever he could, she would not put him in danger by burdening him with that knowledge now.

Thinking of Bucky engaging so frequently in such risky missions sent a horribly familiar rush of fear through her body that she knew she would never get used to. It didn't help that they'd been apart for so long. It wasn't exactly a secret that Captain America had assembled a team (recently christened the 'Howling Commandos') to take on HYDRA but the group moved quickly and covertly to avoid detection, meaning that Hermione and Bucky were told that they were not to exchange letters in case they fell into enemy hands. She wasn't used to people fighting battles without her and it was a daily torture not knowing what was happening to him, whether he was in danger, whether he was even _alive_.

But she wasn't doing _nothing_ ; she physically couldn't let herself.

Once she had accepted that her return to her own time was highly unlikely to ever happen, she had undergone an internal debate about what to do with her life. She knew the implications of time travel better than most people but she would have to be a very cold-hearted and dispassionate person to be able to ignore the war and suffering that surrounded her. So she started to help. In the first few days it was just by volunteering at local aid centres and conjuring replicas of basic supplies that she could hand out to the impoverished people she found. But when Bucky told her that he would be shipping out, she knew she had to do more. The people of London were suffering, but they were getting by, refusing to crumble or let their spirit be broken. In continental Europe, people – both civilians and the armed forces – were laying down their lives for freedom. She couldn't save them all, of course she couldn't – she could barely even _help_ any of them or the millions of others who were at risk around the world. Overwhelmed by the impossibility of her choices (how did she help? Who did she save? Who did she leave and as good as condemn to death?) she had spent hours sobbing and struggling until she had realised that all of her deliberating meant that she actually wasn't helping _anybody_ and that wouldn't do at all. To do good for others, she had to accept her limitations and be smart so that her help would be effective, it wouldn't risk the exposure of magic, it wouldn't put others in further danger and, to a lesser extent, that she didn't needlessly waste her life on a foolhardy scheme.

Her days were filled with research: reading newspapers from cover to cover, books about espionage, codes and how to operate machines capable of transmissions. Some of this information she acquired through less-than-legal means but she was careful to disguise it so that only she could see what she was really reading. Bucky had no idea what she was doing, of course, but she tried to be as honest with him as she could, manipulating the truth rather than full-out lying.

She'd only made a few experimental trips into Europe and started establishing links when she'd learned that Bucky's unit had suffered a catastrophic defeat in Italy. The anxiety she felt in the days that followed as she tried to determine what had happened to Bucky was sickening, but she hadn't stopped until she had helped ensure that he was safe. Was it selfish of her to use so much of her time and ability to help one man? Possibly. But when he was currently the only person in her new life that gave it meaning, she would do all she could to save him so that she could continue to live to save others.

Since Bucky and the rest of the Howling Commandos had started waging their offensive against HYDRA, she had relaunched her efforts abroad, bringing supplies and relief to those she could, destroying Axis weapons and supplies whenever possible, all the while listening out for as much information on the Howling Commandos as she could. A couple of times she was fortunate enough to get wind of their current location and she would apparate in whilst disillusioned just so that she could see for herself that he was alright. She'd only let herself stay for a minute, no longer, otherwise she knew she wouldn't be able to stop herself from running over to him to tell him how much she missed him, how much she _loved_ him.

 _One minute_ , she reminded herself, because it was currently one of those fortunate days where she knew his location. She had waited until after dark (because that was obviously when she was less likely to be seen) and there he was, just a few metres away from her, pouring over a map with Gabe and Jacques.

She felt the seconds tick away and she prepared herself to leave.

But then her vision was obscured by someone else.

And, _boy_ , did Steve look unhappy to see her.

* * *

A/N: Thank you for reading! Hopefully this will have given you some insight into what Hermione's thoughts and feelings are, as well as giving you a bit of background on what happened when she turned up in wartime London.

Fingers crossed updates will be more regular from now on.

Lots of love,

Red


	9. Chapter 9

A/N: Hi guys! Thanks for all the story love!

* * *

Hermione was so surprised that Steve was able to pick out her disillusioned form in the dark that she didn't react quickly enough before he had already closed the gap between them and started to force her backwards from the camp's edge. She would have protested his actions but she wasn't willing to risk attracting any more attention.

"Steve," she muttered once they had left the lights of the camp far behind.

"Not yet," he replied lowly, "The sentries will still be in earshot."

"I am perfectly capable of _walking_ ," she whispered fiercely, wrenching her arm from his grip. He paused, eyeing what little he could see of her very closely before they continued their journey through the woods in silence.

"All right," Steve murmured a few minutes later, "That should be more than far enough away." Hermione turned to face him and opened her mouth to berate him for acting so aggressively but he beat her to it. "What were you thinking?" he asked angrily. "Do you have any idea how _stupid_ that was? How _dangerous_?"

She crossed her arms defensively. "You know I can look after myself. No one would have seen me."

" _I_ saw you," he pointed out.

"Yes, well, you're different, aren't you?" she countered, still unsettled by the fact that her magic didn't work so well on him. Whatever it was that had transformed him into a super soldier must have given him immunity to her magic – to memory modification at least.

"And accidents happen," Steve continued, ignoring her comment. "I don't care how advanced your technology is, there's always a possibility you would have been discovered. I'm sure I don't need to tell you how perilous it would be if you were found by the enemy and don't think you would get much better treatment with our guys – unless you can wave a magic wand and make your presence here suddenly unsuspicious to the Allied army." Again, she opened her mouth to respond but he didn't give her the chance. "And you know that Bucky would fall under suspicion in that case too, right? That people would question him – probably even _torture_ him – because they suspect he knows things due to his relationship with you, even though he knows _nothing_? Did you even think about that before you worked your way over here? I thought you wanted to protect him?!"

Finally given the chance to speak, Hermione found that, initially, she could only press her lips tightly together as his words rang through her.

"Go ahead," he challenged, "Prove me wrong; tell me there's a perfectly valid reason for you to be here and it's not just a selfish move on your part because you were missing Bucky."

Hermione glared at him. "You don't know what it's like," she said through gritted teeth. "Every moment spent expecting that solemn knock on the door that will deliver the news that's going to rip your heart out of your chest. I can't _bear_ it, Steve. I have to know, I have to see that he's alright."

"Millions of others have to face the same uncertainty over their loved ones," he argued, "and _they_ don't jeopardise the war effort."

"Other people get to write letters!" she shot back, "The last time I had any communication with Bucky was _weeks_ ago when..." she trailed off, remembering the last thing Bucky had said to her.

"When he asked you to marry him," Steve finished for her.

She nodded and then remembered that he probably couldn't see the movement, so she said, "Yes." A feeling of unease swirled through her stomach. "How is he?" she asked, her voice much smaller than she wanted it to be.

"He's…fine," he replied after a pause.

"Steve," she pressed gently. "Please."

Steve sighed before saying, "There have been a few cuts and bruises for everyone along the way, nothing serious. He misses you though. He keeps it to himself because he knows the others will ridicule him, but it's obvious – especially because you didn't answer his proposal."

Hermione's heart clenched painfully at his words. She didn't think Steve's tone sounded particularly accusatory or disapproving yet she still felt that she had to defend herself. "He took me by surprise – I, I didn't know what to think, or say, and I certainly didn't know what my answer was!"

"And do you know now?" he asked, looking troubled.

"I think so," she replied cautiously, before adding wryly, "I've had a long time to think about it, haven't I?"

Steve apparently wasn't able to see any amusement in the situation. He appeared to be having an internal debate with himself because he seemed on the verge of speaking a couple of times before changing his mind. She sensed what was on his mind though. "You don't want me to say yes, do you?"

Steve stilled in his fidgeting. "That's not really for me to say, is it?"

"No, it's not!" she agreed firmly and then she sighed. Steve's unceasing protectiveness towards his best friend had certainly caused her a few headaches and misgivings. But she could hardly be mad at him. She valued friendship just as much as he did and she liked to think that she would be as thorough in her protection of Harry or Ron should the situation call for it. In truth, she rather admired that trait in Steve. "Tell me what you're thinking." He sent her a look that suggested he didn't think that was a good idea but she continued, "You want what's best for Bucky just as much as I do so let's see if we can persuade the other to our way of thinking."

Steve still didn't look convinced but, after a moment's hesitancy, he said, "I don't think it's right."

"Because I'm keeping necessary secrets from him?" she questioned. "I looked at the vows; I went to a church and asked a priest to show me the rite of marriage, to show me what Bucky and I would be committing to: are we prepared to love and honour each other for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health as long as we both shall live. Tell me which part of that I fail to qualify for?"

"To ask someone to commit to you for the rest of their life when they don't know the whole truth is immoral," he argued calmly. "And you know it." At Hermione's silence he continued. "You think those vows offer you a loophole because they don't mention honesty? I already see the guilt in you at having to lie to Bucky in your relationship. I may not have a lot of experience in these matters but I know that that guilt is only going to increase if you get married and it'll eat away at you _and_ the love you have for him."

Hermione stared at him, frankly alarmed to hear her inner fears relayed back to her. "You have me all figured out, huh?" she said quietly, feeling rather raw.

Steve let out a breath of humourless laughter. "Not even close," he gently replied. "You keep your thoughts pretty well hidden but your heart is much easier to read, Hermione."

As her tentative vision of her future crumbled around her, she was very relieved that Steve couldn't see her clearly. She shivered, suddenly feeling the harshness of the wintry night despite her warming charm and tears started leaking down her cheeks at the hopelessness of the situation. "What do I do, Steve?" she whispered, emotion choking up her voice.

"You're the only one who can decide that," he said, looking extremely uncomfortable to hear her vulnerability, even if he couldn't see it. "You're the only one who knows what's really going on, what's really at stake." He paused and then awkwardly patted her on the arm in what was probably meant to be a consoling gesture. "I'm sorry."

Hermione laughed, her voice still constricted by her feelings. "What have you got to be sorry for?"

"I doubt my interference is welcome," he mumbled.

She sniffed and wiped at her eyes. "Doesn't stop you though, does it?" Her tone wasn't as obviously teasing as she'd meant it to be and he shifted uneasily. "That's not what I meant," she sighed. "Steve, you shouldn't apologise for holding me to account for my actions and evaluating the fundamentals of my relationship; you've done nothing wrong."

He nodded. "I appreciate you saying so. I've not been enjoying this."

"I know," she said gently. "It hasn't distracted you or Bucky from Schmidt and HYDRA, has it?"

"No," he reassured her, "There's nothing like a red-skulled megalomaniac to make you focus on the matter at hand."

Hermione shuddered at the recollection of Schmidt pulling off his fleshy mask to reveal the horror beneath. What was it with evil psychopaths having no nose? "You've made good progress against him from what I've heard."

"We're making our presence felt," he agreed, "But we've had some lucky breaks too."

"Oh, really?" Hermione asked innocently.

"One of the HYDRA factories was already burnt down before we even got within fifty miles and another…" He paused and a look of comprehension dawned across his face.

" _Another_?" she prompted.

"Another facility's weapons had all malfunctioned," he said slowly and then shook his head. "Those were both you, weren't they?" he accused. "More freelance work?"

"I had some spare time," she responded lightly, not seeing the point in deceiving him.

"You're unbelievable," he murmured, but he didn't sound cross, just impressed. "You know, if we actually dropped this," he indicated between them, "this antagonism and pulled in the same direction for once, we'd come up with a solution."

Hermione stared at him, a flutter of hope in her stomach. She certainly hadn't considered Steve to be her enemy, but nor had she really thought that they were on the same side, that he was supportive of her relationship with Bucky. She'd been letting her fear and isolation dictate her thoughts and decisions. It wasn't often that Hermione Granger encountered a problem that she couldn't solve. Maybe, since ending up back in a time and place she was so unfamiliar with, she'd forgotten that part of herself. Her determination roared back into life with a vengeance and, with a surge of energy, she embraced Steve tightly – much to his surprise.

"Uh, um," he stammered, taking a couple of steps backwards and patting her awkwardly on the back. She suddenly realised that the hold might not be appropriate in the current decade and she let him go quickly.

"Sorry," she said breathlessly, her body still humming with positivity. "I got a bit carried away."

He looked at her curiously. "I really can't figure you out," he said, shaking his head. "You never do what I expect you to."

"Oh," Hermione laughed but then her eyes widened and she gasped. " _Oh!_ "

"What?" he asked, a little alarmed, "What is it?"

"I know what I'm going to do!" she told him, gripping his arm excitedly. "I know how to fix this mess!"

"How?"

"What's the last thing you'd expect me to do?" she questioned brightly.

Steve looked a little taken aback by her eagerness. "Uh, tell Bucky the truth; that you've been lying to him."

" _Exactly_!" she confirmed and he raised his eyebrows in surprise at her plan. "I'll tell him that I'm keeping secrets from him, secrets that I'm not allowed to share." She started back in the direction of the camp, intending to put her plan into action at once. If Bucky saw her unexpectedly out here, he couldn't question the validity behind her claims and he'd correctly assume that some of it was related to her line of work. She was walking quickly before she lost her nerve but Steve grabbed her arm before she'd taken more than a dozen steps.

"Hermione, wait," he said. "This is… You don't… I think you need to wait and think this through," he told her eventually.

Doubt flashed through her body. "You think Bucky will be angry?" she gasped. "You think he won't forgive me?"

"I don't know _what_ to think right now," Steve said, eyebrows still high on his head. "But I know this is an enormous decision for you. You shouldn't just rush into it without thinking through the consequences."

"I thought you wanted me to be honest with Bucky?" she questioned.

"I _do_ ," he insisted. "But I don't want you to do something you'll later regret. Look, our first stint is nearly over – we should be back in London in less than a week. Talk to Bucky then when you've had time to think things over."

Hermione stared at him, thoughts in a whirl, adrenaline pulsing, and heart beating rapidly. "Less than a week?" she eventually repeated.

"We're scheduled to fly in on Monday," he confirmed, using a calming voice.

"Do- do you think he'll still love me? That it will all work out?" she asked breathlessly. She knew she could trust his answer. She had a feeling that Steve had managed to avoid lying to Bucky throughout this whole mess.

"I think you'll make sure it will," he told her seriously but with a new hint of warmth. She hugged him again but this time he almost seemed to be expecting it. Maybe she wasn't so unpredictable after all.

* * *

A/N Yay, Steve and Hermione might actually be friends now!

Until next time...


	10. Chapter 10

A/N: Thanks for all the love, you wonderful people!

* * *

Steve felt a sense of Déjà vu as he and Bucky trod the now-familiar path towards The Crown pub. The streets were much chillier than they had been two months ago but everything looked much the same as it had before their exploits on the Continent. The main difference between today and the day Steve had first trodden this route was the energy Bucky was giving off. Back then, Bucky had been almost giddy with excitement at the prospect of seeing Hermione again but Steve could tell how anxious Bucky was at finally finding out the answer to his marriage proposal.

Since his unusual conversation with Hermione a few days ago, Steve felt pretty sure that she was going to say yes but he had no way of reassuring Bucky without him becoming suspicious. Steve did have sympathy for his friend but Bucky _had_ chosen an inopportune time to ask her. The look of shock and anguish of Bucky's face when he'd taken his seat after failing to get a response from Hermione hadn't been funny at the time – and Bucky certainly hadn't enjoyed the teasing from the team he'd been forced to endure ever since – but now that it seemed there was going to be a positive result, Steve couldn't resist a smile at his friend's expense. It was almost ironic that the smooth-talking sergeant had made such a mess of winning the hand of the woman he loved – or maybe Steve felt it was justice after suffering a lifetime of awkward encounters with women in comparison with his best friend!

For the tenth time in the last few minutes, Bucky self-consciously squeezed the small box that was in his trouser pocket. Steve had very much intended for Bucky to make this journey on his own and had merely approached Bucky to wish him luck, but then he found himself forced to help his best friend buy an engagement ring.

"I've got to show her I was serious," Bucky had explained. "That it wasn't just my mouth running away from me."

"But it was, wasn't it?" Steve replied.

"Well, _yeah_ , I suppose," Bucky had admitted. "But I meant it: I _do_ want to marry her, and a ring is going to show that."

The two men spent a surprisingly long time picking out the engagement ring. Steve had wanted to settle for the first good one they saw but Bucky was very indecisive – as though Hermione's opinion on the piece of jewellery he chose was going to be the deciding factor in her answer. After a while, all the rings started to look the same to Steve and he was beginning to despair that Bucky would never find one that he liked. Finally, after visiting their fifth shop – and viewing close to sixty rings by Steve's estimate – Bucky chose the ring. Steve wasn't sure what made that particular item of jewellery so special but if it meant that he could stop looking at rings, he was very happy to support Bucky's choice. When the store owner had named his price, Bucky had hesitated a little bit and Steve had offered to provide him with funds from his short-lived movie career.

"No, it's alright," Bucky had answered, delving into his pocket for the money. "If a man's going to get his girl a ring, he's got to be good for it himself, right?"

Again, Steve had intended to leave Bucky to it but, with The Crown so close, Steve decided to walk with his best friend most of the way before he would duck into the pub ready for the celebratory drinks that he anticipated would commence soon after.

In the meantime, Bucky had moved from checking that the ring box was there every few seconds to not removing his hand from his pocket at all. Steve clapped him supportively on the back as they took the penultimate corner before they expected to see Hermione dishing out more supplies to the poor in her usual spot. "Good luck, Buck," he said, "Drinks are on me when she says yes."

" _If_ ," Bucky corrected, sounding uncharacteristically nervous.

" _When_ ," Steve insisted as The Crown came into view and, a moment later, Hermione. Both men paused, watching as Hermione spoke comfortingly to an elderly couple and pushed supplies into their objecting hands.

"Have it; I won't take no for an answer," Hermione was saying to them and Steve heard Bucky sigh in relief – possibly just reassured at the sight and sound of her.

"Thank you, Hermione, love," the elderly gentleman said. "You're a Godsend."

"Not at all, Bill," she said modestly, "It's the least I can do. We've all got to look after each other, haven't we?"

"But who's looking after you, dear?" the old woman asked. "When's your young American feller due back?"

"Soon, I hope, Mary," she sighed.

"How about right now?" Bucky called over to her. Hermione looked surprised for just a moment before she sped over to Bucky and threw her arms around him. Steve enjoyed the sight of his best friend looking far happier than at any other moment over the last few weeks.

"I've missed you so much," Hermione said, her voice thick with emotion. "I _hate_ it when you're away."

"I know," Bucky replied softly, "But I'm here now."

Hermione nodded, her lips pulling into a wide smile. "You're here. _Finally._ "

Steve started to cross the road to the pub to give the couple some privacy but his movement drew Hermione's eyes to him briefly before she refocused on Bucky.

"Bucky, there's…there's something I need to talk to you about," she said nervously and Steve stopped in surprise.

Bucky's face instantly grew concerned. "Oh. Is it about…what I said?"

Hermione gently placed her hand on Bucky's cheek to try and soothe his fears. "There's something you need to know before you ask me again – that is, if you actually want to."

"Of course I… Hermione, what – I don't," he spluttered.

Steve was quite taken aback that Hermione wanted to have the conversation in the middle of the street. Maybe she was hoping that Bucky wouldn't overreact if they were in public.

"Bucky, my love," she said, making sure that his gaze was focused upon her, "there are things about me – my past and present – that I haven't told you, that I _can't_ tell you."

Bucky looked at her in confusion. "Why not?"

"Because I'm not allowed to."

"According to whom?"

"I can't tell you that," she admitted. "I hate that there's a part of me that you can't know, but I think that you should be aware of that fact before you decide whether you want to marry me or not. It wouldn't be fair to you if you didn't know…"

Bucky stared at her wordlessly and Steve saw Hermione lick her lips nervously. "W-what are you thinking?" she asked.

He took a deep breath and frowned. "Will you ever be able to tell me?"

"I hope so," she said earnestly. "When the war's over and we've started a new life together somewhere else – there's nothing I want to do more, believe me."

Steve could see that Bucky wanted to but uncertainty lingered on his face. "It's nothing bad, right?"

Hermione smiled and shook her head slightly. "No. It's just extremely restricted information, I swear. I'm still the same person, the same girl who loves you more than words can say." Her eyes flickered to Steve again and he flushed, embarrassed to be seen eavesdropping on their conversation. "But there's something else," she told Bucky. "Steve knows a little of what I can't tell you."

Steve gaped at her. What was she doing?! Was she involving him so that he could back her up – to tell Bucky it was OK to trust her? Was she just selfishly using him to get what she wanted?

"What?" Bucky said, looking over at him. Steve wanted to move but he found that he couldn't.

"We encountered each other professionally," Hermione elaborated as far as she dared. "I begged him not to breathe a word and explained that I have to keep things confidential, but he's hated having to keep this from you. The last thing I wanted to do was come between two best friends." She turned to Steve. "I don't want you to feel like you're deceiving Bucky by pretending that you don't know. It would be selfish of me to clear my conscience, to an extent, while not letting you do the same, and I would be disrespecting your friendship."

Steve was rather astonished by her speech and he felt bad about his earlier assumption that she was involving him for her own gains. He appreciated that she was trying to repair the damage – even though Bucky was probably unaware that things had been strained between them.

"Wait," Bucky said, a look of understanding settling on his face. "Is that why you two have never really gotten along?" he asked, quickly proving Steve wrong.

Both Steve and Hermione wore looks of surprise that he'd noticed the tension despite their best efforts to hide it. "Please," Bucky scoffed, seeing their expressions, "I know you both so well." He frowned. "At least I thought I did…"

"You _do_ ," Steve insisted. "We didn't see eye-to-eye at first but we do have one main thing in common."

Bucky looked confused and Hermione laughed lightly. " _You_ ," she told him because he didn't seem to be able to work it out himself. "We would both do anything for you."

Bucky scratched the back of his head. "Well, that's comforting to know," he murmured.

"You OK, buddy?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Bucky shrugged, "It's come a bit out of the blue but, to be honest, when you said we needed to talk," he said to Hermione, "my mind pictured much worse scenarios. So, if you tell me that this classified part of you shouldn't change anything between us, then I believe you – I trust you."

Hermione took Bucky's hand and moved it to rest against her heart. "James Buchanan Barnes, I promise you with all my heart that you have nothing to worry about."

He held her gaze for a moment and then nodded, seemingly content. "Well, if you've already gone down the full name route," he murmured, taking his hand from her embrace and moving it to his pocket, "I'm going to do it properly this time."

He removed the small box and opened the lid as he got down on one knee. "Hermione Jean Granger, will you do me the honour of agreeing to become my wife?" he asked.

In contrast to the shock and uncertainty felt by all three of them the last time that Bucky proposed, Steve watched serenely as the scene played out in front of him.

"Of course I will," Hermione answered, a huge smile on her face as Bucky swept her up into his arms.

And that, Steve thought hopefully, would be the end of all the unwanted tension and deception…

* * *

A/N: Aw, a nice fluffy drama-free chapter, for once! Well, if you ignore the somewhat ambiguous ending!

Hope you enjoyed!

Love,

Red


	11. Chapter 11

Hello! Thank you for all your support on this story.

Just so you don't get confused - _italics_ means flashback!

* * *

 _Before the Howling Commandos had departed for Europe for the first time, The Crown had always had the potential to be a noisy destination but, on the night of their return, the night Hermione and Bucky had finally become engaged, it was_ exceptionally _raucous. The only times Dugan and the rest weren't singing noisily at the piano were when they were knocking back the beers. Steve was happy to pay for the drinks to keep on coming; his men deserved to enjoy themselves after a tough few weeks._

 _He looked them over; proud that they had achieved everything that they had set out to in the first leg of their campaign against HYDRA with barely a hiccup along the way. However, there was a good chance that Hermione was partly responsible for that. He glanced at where she was happily sat on Bucky's lap, her arm slung around the back of his neck and his hand resting comfortably on her knee. Steve was getting to know Hermione more and more with every encounter but she was still something of an enigma. However, he knew her well enough to understand that this moment, right here, was why she risked everything. She didn't want any accolades for her daring exploits into Europe, she didn't even want the men around her to know what she'd done, she just wanted to keep Bucky safe, to have him with her. And, judging by the utter contentment_ _ermione would Her_ _that exuded from the pair of them, the feeling was mutual._

 _Steve couldn't be happier for them. Truly. After weeks of unease about Bucky's relationship with Hermione, it was a relief not to have the doubts following him around like a black cloud. He could see the relief in Hermione, too, and it was nice not to see the fear and suspicion in her gaze whenever she looked at him. In fact, now that there was no hostility between the two of them, Steve saw for himself just how warm and openhearted her gaze was._

" _There's your lot," the bartender announced, regaining Steve's attention. He easily lifted the tray of drinks over to their table where the arrival of more beer was met with hearty cheers._

 _Dugan grabbed his new pint and looked at Morita expectantly. Jim started with sudden recollection. "Oh, right, it's my turn," he murmured._

" _Really, it's not necessary," Hermione objected as the men all got to their feet, meaning she was dislodged from Bucky's lap so that Morita could take his turn in raising a toast to the engaged pair._

" _Now, Hermione, this is what we do when a Howling Commando gets engaged," Dugan informed her. "You don't want to stand in the way of a tradition, do you?"_

" _A tradition?" she repeated with a laugh. "You've only been a team for a few weeks; no one else has gotten engaged!"_

" _Tradition has got to start sometime, hasn't it?" Gabe argued._

" _Exactly," Dugan agreed strongly. "We want to get these customs in place ready for the next time one of these untethered young men decides to trade in their freedom for a gamble on marital bliss."_

" _Well, when you present your case with such eloquence, who am I to argue?" Hermione replied sardonically, accepting her drink from Steve. All eyes turned to Jim and he cleared his throat loudly._

" _So, I'm not sure what there is to say that hasn't been said before," he began, nodding towards Dugan, Jones and Dernier who had preceded him. "So I'm going to take a leaf out of Jacques' book and wish you both good fortune in your marriage using the language of my ancestors."_

 _Jim's Japanese speech caused a few raised eyebrows from some of the other patrons and, of course, no one knew what he said, but that didn't stop the group from noisily raising their drinks at the end and consuming a large amount of their beverages in one go._

" _So, who do you have your hopes pinned on to get engaged next?" Hermione asked Dugan as they all retook their seats. "It can't be easy for any of you to meet a potential wife when you're travelling around so much."_

" _C'est vrai," Jacques sighed looking woeful._

" _Which is why I'm looking to our illustrious leader," Dugan said, gesturing to Steve._

" _Me?" Steve chuckled. "Why do you think I'd be a good bet?"_

" _Why, your budding romance with Agent Carter, of course!" Dugan replied, amusement twinkling in his eyes. This announcement instigated a number of laughs from the team and Bucky snorted derisively into his beer. Steve took the teasing in good grace but Hermione looked confused._

" _I don't understand why that's so funny," she said as the others continued to chuckle. "She seemed very taken with you last time, Steve," which prompted the Howling Commandos to force him to regale Hermione with the story of what had happened with that blonde private._

"… _It definitely wasn't my finest hour," he concluded dryly and most of the Howling Commandos thankfully began their own conversations again._

" _Has she forgiven you yet?" Hermione asked._

" _The last time we met she called me by my name and not my rank," he answered, "which is progress, right?"_

" _Sounds like it," Hermione agreed but Bucky shook his head._

" _It's not gonna make any difference what she calls you if you can't say three coherent sentences to her that aren't work related," he pointed out._

" _I don't know what to say to her," Steve defended, shaking his head ruefully. "I don't know how to talk to women."_

" _We're not another species!" Hermione laughed and the look on Steve's face must have been particularly pathetic because her expression became sympathetic. "You talk to me without any problems."_

" _Yeah, but that's because…" he began to explain and then grew concerned that she might be offended by his answer._

" _Because you're not trying to impress me?" she asked and he nodded. "Well, maybe that's your problem; just be yourself around her. Have you known her for some time?"_

" _About as long as you and Bucky have known each other," he answered. "Peggy oversaw my training before I was picked for Project Rebirth."_

" _Then she already knows who you are, Steve," Hermione reassured him. "I'm telling you: don't try to be someone else, just be yourself."_

" _You just need practise, that's all," Bucky put in. "Think about how many broads I talked to back home; you think I always said the right thing to them?" Bucky frowned at the tensed look on Steve's face and then he realised what he'd said and he turned apprehensively to his fiancée._

" _I think maybe_ you _need some more practise too," Hermione said wryly._

 _Bucky continued to look sheepishly at her for a moment and then he grinned. "Why – you already agreed to marry me, didn't you?"_

 _Hermione pursed her lips together but it looked like she was fighting a smile. "Cheeky bugger," she muttered, shaking her head. She turned to Steve. "Please note that is not an advisable way to talk to a woman you like."_

" _Duly noted," he replied seriously._

" _I can help you practise if you like," she suggested. "I can pretend to be Agent Carter or just a stranger."_

" _I don't know," Steve began uncertainly but Bucky interrupted him._

" _Hey, if she's worth it, you've got to do whatever it takes," he insisted. "And, from what I've seen, you've got a fair amount of work to do."_

 _Hermione put her glass down and stood from Bucky's lap, indicating that Steve should do the same. "Come on, imagine that I'm Agent Carter. What are you going to say, what are you going to do?"_

 _Steve reluctantly stood up and tried to get into the spirit of the act. If Peggy was standing in front of him right now, what_ would _he do?_

 _A grin appeared on his face and he quietly said to Hermione, "Want to dish out a bit of revenge on your fiancé?" She looked at him curiously but nodded._

" _Alright," she said, a smile pulling at her lips but it turned into a gasp of surprise as Steve quickly took her in his arms and turned them both to the side so that he held her in a low dip. He heard Bucky let out a whoop of delight._

" _Yeah, Steve! That's more like it," he chuckled._

 _Hermione raised an eyebrow challengingly at Steve from where she lay in his arms and he played along, lowering his face towards hers._

 _A loud choking noise told them they'd finally gotten the reaction they'd sought. "Woah, woah, woah!" Bucky objected, darting out of his seat to separate the two of them as the Howling Commandos whistled and cheered them. Hermione's eyes had fluttered closed at the prospect of their 'kiss' but she opened them once she was vertical again and looked at Bucky innocently._

" _That's what I_ want _to do," Steve explained with an equally guilt-free expression as he looked at his best friend._

" _Works for me," Hermione responded, extravagantly fanning her cheeks with her hand. Bucky let out a discontented grunt and Hermione laughed. "You're the one that suggested he practise."_

" _That wasn't quite what I had in mind," Bucky responded. "It was supposed to be conversations; not attempting to kiss my fiancée."_

" _Right, conversations," Hermione nodded with mock-seriousness. "Come on, Steve, let's go find a more private corner to practise in. You don't want this lot listening in to every word."_

" _But –" Bucky began, the arm he had around her waist tightening a little._

" _It's alright, there's nothing to worry about," she interrupted, "I already agreed to marry you, didn't I?" she reminded him sweetly, parroting his earlier words back to him._

 _Bucky stared at her for a moment and then laughed. "Point well made," he conceded and she grinned at him._

 _She looked over at Steve, "Let's go."_

" _Wait, it's the night of your engagement," he reminded her. "You surely don't want to spend it helping me talk to women."_

 _Hermione laughed. "I'm going to be spending the rest of my life with Bucky; I think I can spend a few minutes helping_ you _, Steve."_

Their 'few minutes' actually turned out to be well over an hour. They did act out a couple of different scenarios to begin with and Hermione gave him some good advice, but then they just engaged in general conversation – something they'd never actually done before.

That night had been many months ago now but Steve could still recall the occasion vividly.

And now he wondered whether that was the night that he'd first started to fall in love with her…

* * *

A/N Um, surprise! Thoughts?


	12. Chapter 12

A/N: Hey, lovelies! You guys were just the BEST in your responses to the last chapter. Love to you all!

Remember, _italics_ means flashback.

* * *

 _February 1944_

"You goddamned sons of bitches – you're going to regret this! _" Bucky roared, much to the amusement of the Howling Commandos as they watched him struggle to disentangle himself from the soaked sheets of the bed they had just poured an entire barrel of water over – as well as the sergeant who had been sleeping peacefully in it moments before._

" _Oh, don't be like that, Barnes!" Gabe said amiably as Bucky ran a hand through his sopping hair. "We just thought you'd want to get a prompt start given the importance of the day."_

" _The importance of the…" Bucky began to repeat distractedly and then he paused and his eyes widened with realisation. "Oh, shit."_

 _The others all laughed and Steve handed his best friend a hip flask they'd had the foresight to fill with whiskey. "Happy Wedding Day, Buck," he said, clapping him on the back. Bucky took the flask wordlessly and took a long sip from it, coughing slightly as it went down._

" _This is good stuff," he said, indicating the whiskey. "Where'd you get it?"_

 _Dugan laughed. "Probably best you remain uninformed. After all, if you don't know the answer then there's no chance of you being incarcerated before your lovely fiancée can make an honest man of you, right?"_

 _Bucky levelled him with a gaze that was heavy with suspicion before taking another swig. "Fair point," he conceded with a shrug before finally clambering out of the drenched sheets. A few minutes of good-natured scuffling broke out as the groom attempted to force his comrades into experiencing just how unpleasant his bed had become but most of them fled before their faces were forced into the soggy linens._

" _Ugh," Steve grumbled articulately when Bucky caught him unawares with a wet pillow to the face. "Thanks."_

" _You guys started it," Bucky pointed out with a smirk as a wet, disgruntled Jacques exited the room with the empty water barrel over his head, leaving the two best friends alone._

" _Damn, I'm freezing," Bucky muttered, beginning to pull off his wet clothes to exchange them for dryer, warmer ones._

 _Steve focused his energy on wringing out the water from the pillow. "It's the middle of winter – what did you expect? If you and Hermione had waited for a spring or summer wedding then the temperature wouldn't be such an issue, would it?"_

 _Steve hadn't been at all surprised that Bucky and Hermione had set a wedding date that followed on so quickly from the day of their engagement in order to ensure they were married before Bucky had to leave again. Whilst mainland Europe was in the grip of a harsh, bitter winter, transportation was much more difficult, so the Howling Commandos were currently a non-combative unit, taking stock of what they had achieved so far and planning for future missions before they launched their next attack. Steve expected to receive word of the date they would resume their attacks any day now but he hoped they could all forget about the war for a few hours and just enjoy the day._

 _Steve realised that Bucky was uncharacteristically quiet and he glanced over at him. Bucky was staring at his freshly pressed US army dress uniform that was hanging up on the wardrobe door ready for the day ahead. "You alright, Buck?"_

" _Do you think we should have waited?" he asked, picking up his hat and turning it over and over in his hands. "Are we rushing into this?"_

" _You're asking_ me?! _" Steve asked, overstating the incredulity in an attempt to lighten his friend's suddenly sombre mood. "I've never even gone on a real date with a girl – are you sure you want my advice?"_

 _Bucky half-smiled in response. "That_ is _true," he allowed, nodding a couple of times, "you have a particularly dire record when it comes to women but you know me better than anyone. Steve, am I making a mistake?"_

 _And Steve knew instinctively that Bucky wasn't just talking about the timing but the whole prospect of marriage. Steve didn't attempt any more jokes; he knew how seriously Bucky was taking this conversation – he'd never seen his best friend look so uncertain._

" _Buck, buddy, you're right, I_ do _know you better than anyone," Steve said calmly. "We've had each other's backs since we were kids and we've been through so much together. I lost count of the number of different girls I saw you taking out for a dance and I'm sure there were others I didn't even know about – but what I do remember is that, after that night of dancing, I never heard you talk about one of those girls again. Since you met Hermione, I don't think you've even remembered that other girls exist. You love her."_

 _The hat in Bucky's hands finally stopped spinning._

" _And she loves you," Steve told him with simple but honest truth._

" _You're sure?" he asked and Steve wondered how much of Hermione's secrets were causing the doubts in Bucky's mind. Unfortunately, there was not much that Steve could say to reassure him that either hadn't already been said or would break Hermione's trust by sharing it._

" _Buck,_ I'm sure _," he insisted with the conviction of all he knew about Hermione's exploits to keep Bucky safe. "I know it's all happened fast but when you two are together, you just seem to fit – why put off something you know is already right?"_

 _Bucky nodded mutely then let out a big sigh of relief and grinned at him. "Thanks, Steve."_

" _Come on, let's get you ready for the church," he suggested. "God knows you'll never find another woman who'll put up with you like Hermione does."_

 _The next few hours passed very quickly and, despite the fact that they'd woken Bucky with plenty of time to spare, Steve was still anxious that they wouldn't make it to the church on time. The Howling Commandos didn't take his threats of punishment for their slack movements seriously but, when he warned them how furious Hermione would be if they were late, they started pulling themselves together much more quickly._

 _In the end, they made it to the small but pretty church with twenty minutes to spare, and it was fortunate they did because the pews inside the building were much busier than Bucky or Steve had anticipated._

" _Do you know any of these people?" Steve asked his friend quietly as they surveyed the assortment of people, ranging from the very old to new-born, who had dressed up in their best for the event._

 _Bucky frowned. "A few of them – just people I've seen Hermione hand out supplies to. I guess she helps a lot more people than I thought!"_

 _The crowd momentarily hushed as the impressive figures of the Howling Commandos moved to the front of the church and then the whisperings resumed at a much more frenetic intensity – until the priest stepped up to remind them all that this was a house of worship and should be treated with respect. The crowd fell into a sullen silence and Steve took the opportunity to make his own personal appeal to God that both the day and the marriage be a loving and successful one._

" _Got the rings?" Bucky asked him quietly for the tenth time that morning._

" _Yes, Buck," he sighed wearily. "Have a little faith, would you?"_

 _Bucky grinned and opened his mouth to make a smart-Alec response but the priest came into view once more. "It's time," he told Bucky gently, making the groom shut his mouth at once._

 _Steve knew very little about women's fashions but was certainly able to appreciate them nonetheless. If asked to describe Hermione's wedding dress, he would be able to provide the key details of it being white, long-sleeved, floor length, pulled in slightly at the waist and topped with a veil held in place by a couple of white roses. However, if you asked him to describe_ Hermione _on her wedding day, that was much easier – she was beautiful, enchanting, a vision of gentle bliss as she walked down the aisle towards the man she loved._

" _Wow," Steve heard Bucky breathe next to him._

 _Their eyes never strayed from the other as Hermione closed the distance between them and, happy though he was for his friends, Steve couldn't repress just a twinge of envy at their relationship._

 _The marriage service went without a hitch and, before they knew it, Bucky and Hermione were soon pronounced as husband and wife, much to the congregation's delight. The kiss to seal their union was possibly a little too enthusiastic for the priest's tastes but everyone else enjoyed seeing the delight on the happy couple's faces._

 _After the marriage certificate was signed, confetti was thrown and photographs taken, the celebrations moved, of course, to The Crown. The day passed in a whirl of laughter, drink, music, food and speeches. Throughout it all, Bucky and Hermione looked like the epitome of happiness and Steve enjoyed experiencing the intoxicating feeling of joy that radiated from them. He grinned broadly at the look on their faces when they found out that Steve had pulled some strings with Howard Stark to get a few bottles of champagne and a proper wedding cake – minor miracles given the state of rationing in the country. Howard had even put some money behind the bar that ensured the drinks kept flowing for all the guests for the entire reception. Steve had found that alcohol didn't have the same effect on him since Project Rebirth and he soon became the only sober head (apart from the children, of course, though Steve suspected that even some of the more adventurous amongst them had managed to swipe an unattended pint or two) in an increasingly drunken night. He didn't mind; these people all deserved a chance to celebrate something for a change._

 _After a while, some of the tables and chairs were pushed aside and music blared out from the piano. Someone played a gentle tune for the first dance of Mr and Mrs Barnes but this was swiftly followed by livelier music to sing and dance to. Steve was happy enough to join in with the singing but he was still self-conscious enough to be a rather reluctant dancer._

" _Come on, Best Man," Hermione greeted, her eyes shining with contentment as she held out a hand to him many hours into the celebrations, "I think it's only proper that you and I have a dance, don't you think?" He wasn't about to turn down a bride on her wedding day and, to be honest, if he was going to dance with any of the women in the room, he'd probably be most comfortable with her – how far they'd come in a couple of months!_

" _I apologize in advance if I step on your feet or your dress," he said loudly to be heard over the clunking notes on the piano as she pulled him over to the other dancers and she laughed._

" _Have a little faith, would you?" she teased over her shoulder and he chuckled as she unknowingly echoed his earlier words to Bucky._

 _She turned around and adjusted her grip on his hand before placing her other one atop his shoulder and he automatically held her waist, enjoying the feel of the silky material of her dress under his fingers. Thankfully, the pace of the music wasn't too fast and Hermione beamed at him as they fell into an easy rhythm._

" _See, I knew you'd be fine," she told him, squeezing his shoulder fondly. He smiled back at her, disproportionately pleased with himself for what many would see as a minor accomplishment. It really was a pleasant feeling to have his body held so closely by someone else and to be able to feed off of their enjoyment. He raised his hand so that she could turn under it and his smile widened at her tipsy giggles as she spun._

 _Momentarily dizzy, she laid her head against his chest, tucking her head under his chin, and he immediately stiffened at the unexpected intimacy. Her breath was hot against his throat and her curls tickled his jaw; he could feel the outline of her upper body as it pressed into him and he was struck by how wonderful it was to have someone fit into him so perfectly. The moment lasted no more than handful of seconds and then Hermione pulled back to her former dancing posture with an easy expression on her face. "No more champagne for me, I think," she murmured, seemingly unaware how she'd unsettled him. Steve glanced around him but no one else appeared to be troubled by their brief close encounter. He told himself he was overreacting but he didn't risk anything other than maintaining their normal hold for the rest of the dance._

" _Thank you for everything you've done to make this day so special," she told him once the dance was over, leaning up to kiss his cheek._

" _It was my pleasure, Hermione," he told her sincerely and her face lit up in that lovely beaming smile again. Her eyes suddenly widened in shock and she gripped his hand tightly. "She's here, Steve!" He frowned in puzzlement and then realised that her gaze was fixed on something behind him. When he turned, he saw Peggy standing by the bar; an image of amused serenity amidst the drunken merriments that surrounded her._

 _He felt Hermione's hands urging his body forwards and he obligingly took a few steps in Peggy's direction and she smiled when she noticed him._

" _Well, it certainly looks like I've been missing quite the party," Peggy greeted and then focused her attention on the bride a couple of steps behind him. "Congratulations, Mrs Barnes. I'm sorry I couldn't get here sooner – I've been in meetings all day, only just managed to get away."_

" _That's all right," Hermione dismissed good-naturedly. "Would you like a drink?"_

 _Peggy paused, her face becoming strained; guilty, even. "No, thank you. I'm afraid I'm here on official business."_

 _Hermione's face fell at once and Steve's spirits similarly plummeted. "We're moving out?" he guessed._

" _Not immediately," Peggy reassured them, "but the unit is expected to report in tomorrow for a couple of days of briefings before leaving on Wednesday. I know, I know," she added quickly at the look on Steve's face, "I_ did _warn them that it was unlikely any of you would be in prime condition tomorrow morning but those are the orders. I'm sorry."_

 _The air of disappointment coming from Hermione was tangible. An idea suddenly sparked in Steve's head. "But what if the happy couple had already left on their honeymoon?" he posed._

 _Peggy stared at him for a moment and then her lips curved into an approving smirk. "Well, I suppose I'd be forced to grant the groom special dispensation. I'm certainly not going to be chasing Barnes across the country on his wedding night. It's such a shame that I got here just after the newlyweds departed," she shrugged._

 _Hermione grasped both of their hands tightly. "Thank you," she whispered eagerly and then darted away to find Bucky._

" _Will Phillips be annoyed?" Steve asked her, knowing full well that the Colonel could have a cantankerous side to him._

 _Peggy shrugged, her thick brown hair swaying slightly with the movement. "Probably, but he'll get over it," she replied. There was a flurry of activity behind them as people realised that the bride and groom would soon be leaving._

" _Why don't you stay for a while?" he offered hopefully._

 _She smiled. "I need to get back to headquarters to inform them that the lengths of their meetings ensured we're going to be one Howling Commando short for a couple of days." He tried not to look too disappointed, grateful as he was that she was letting Bucky and Hermione get away, but she sensed his gloom and touched her hand against his forearm. "Another time, perhaps?"_

" _Sure."_

 _Peggy slipped back into the night whilst everyone else said their quick goodbyes to the newlyweds. Steve only had time to slap Bucky on the back and receive another kiss on the cheek from Hermione before they were bungled into a taxi cab headed towards the train station._

" _Did I see you talking to Agent Carter in there?" Dugan asked him as they watched the vehicle disappear into the night. "The next wedding is on its way boys!" he called loudly to the rest of the team, arm slung around Steve's shoulder. "I knew you had it in you, Cap!"_

" _Thanks for the vote of confidence," Steve replied, "but she was actually here to pass on that we're to report to headquarters first thing in the morning."_

" _Oh,_ hell, _" Dugan muttered angrily and then he let out a long sigh. "Ah, well, I'm getting another drink. You'll get the girl eventually, Cap…"_

Peggy was looking at him curiously and Steve realised that he hadn't heard what she'd just said to him. "I'm sorry, could you repeat that?" he asked.

"Well, I just thought that it might be a good idea to go and get that drink we've never quite managed," she explained.

He should be happy; he should be almost giddy with relief that something he'd wanted for so long might actually be happening. He wanted to say yes.

 _No_ , he wanted himself to want to say yes because that would be so much easier. That would make sense and was much more likely to lead to happiness. Well, actually, it was less likely to put him on the path to misery.

But that wasn't what he wanted.

 _She_ wasn't what he wanted anymore.

And he might be a sick person who was in love with his best friend's wife but he wasn't going to deceive Peggy and pretend to offer her something he wasn't capable of giving her anymore.

"I- I don't think that's a good idea," he forced the words out of his mouth, hating himself as he did so. "I'm sorry, Peggy…"

* * *

A/N: So, not _quite_ the dramatic ending of last time but hopefully you still enjoyed it. After finding out about Steve's future feelings about Hermione, we're going to spend just a few chapters seeing how he gets there...

Let me know what you think!

Love,

Red

P.S. Is it sad that I amused myself with the phrase, 'brief close encounter'?


	13. Chapter 13

A/N: Hey, everyone! Thanks for all your continued support.

We're still going through Steve's reflections on how he got to falling in love with Hermione so, remember, _italics is flashback_ , normal print is him in the 'present'.

* * *

 _March 1944_

 _The sharp knock on Steve's door woke him instantly. It was highly unusual for him to receive visitors in the middle of the night and he presumed that he was about to be given important news relating to the War or HYDRA. He was certainly not expecting to see a hunched Hermione looking up at him with pained and desperate eyes._

" _What are -?" he began but she quickly held a finger to her lips and his eyes were instantly drawn to the blood it was coated in._

 _Questions stormed to the tip of his tongue but he just about managed to hold them back. Instead, he reached out an arm to help her enter the room and then locked the door securely._

" _What's happened?" he asked quietly, noticing how her right arm hung somewhat uselessly at her side and she was taking quick, shallow breaths._

" _Don't overreact," she whispered, looking at him for confirmation that he wouldn't and he nodded, feeling more than a little unsettled. "I was shot in the back," she said shortly. Perhaps that fact hadn't really sunk in until she'd voiced it out loud because she suddenly became tearful._

 _If Steve thought he'd had questions before, they were multiplied tenfold at her announcement and concern flooded his gut for the trembling young woman in front of him. Luckily, his enhanced ability to think clearly under pressure kicked in. "OK. Hermione, we need to get you to the medical ward," he told her calmly, placing a comforting hand on the arm that he suspected was uninjured._

" _No," she said breathlessly, a couple of tears running down her cheeks, "you have to help me."_

" _That's what I'm trying to do," he explained._

" _No one else can see, Steve," she argued. "_ Please. _"_

" _I – " he began, intending to point out his inadequate medical knowledge, but Hermione shuddered and her knees buckled. He caught her before she hit the floor and she tried hard to muffle a cry of pain. Steve could feel his hand becoming wet from where it was supporting her back and he started carrying her towards the door, deciding there wasn't time to risk her life by arguing over the course of action._

"No! _" she gasped, gripping his arm tightly. "Right pocket – in my right pocket quickly!" The urgency in her voice made him acquiesce, despite his misgivings, and he retrieved a small glass bottle from her coat pocket. "Rub the ointment around the wound," she instructed, "It'll numb the pain."_

 _Steve hesitated for only a second before deciding to follow her commands. He gently lowered her to the floor, face down, so that he could have access to the wound. Even in the dim light of the room, Steve could see the ragged hole in her coat and the shininess of the material that surrounded the tear, signifying the wetness of the blood that had stained it._

 _With his bare hands, he tore apart each layer of the fabric that was covering her back until he came across the unsettling contrast of pale, smooth skin and damaged, bloodied flesh. He ripped apart the brassiere that was partially obscuring the affected area and the touch of the never-seen-before garment inadvertently rammed home_ exactly _what he was looking at. He couldn't help but stare for a moment at the lines and shape of Hermione's torso, and he briefly considered whether it was entirely appropriate for him to be attending to her like this, but then she let out a stifled groan and his instinctive need to act banished those thoughts from his brain. He opened the bottle that contained the liquid which she claimed would provide her with pain relief and poured a small amount onto his fingers, before carefully massaging the ointment around the injury._

 _The wound was about two inches below her right scapula. The fact that she wasn't already dead led him to believe that the bullet had hit a rib rather than her internal organs. This would be good news were it not for the absence of an exit wound. The bullet could have deflected anywhere inside the affected area and Steve didn't have any confidence in his ability to extract it._

" _Is it working?" he asked, becoming anxious at the lack of sound coming from her._

" _Y-yes," she replied, her voice strained. His tension eased minutely – there was still the matter of the gunshot wound itself and the whereabouts of the bullet to consider. He was about to pour some more of the liquid onto his fingers but she told him to stop. "I need to have some feeling in that area otherwise I won't know if the procedure has gone wrong."_

 _Steve stoppered the bottle with some difficulty as the ointment had started to affect the feeling in his own fingers. "We need to get a medic to look at you now," he told her. "This is far beyond any wound I've assisted with before, Hermione. You've probably broken a rib and the bullet needs to be extracted before it does any more damage."_

" _I thought as much," she murmured so quietly that Steve barely heard her. He glanced around his room for some material he could wrap her in to preserve her modesty while he took her to the medical wing. "Steve, in the sleeve of my blouse there should be a, a stick. Could you bring it to me?" she asked, much to his bewilderment. He stared at her for longer than he should have given the seriousness of her injury but he was concerned that the situation had affected her mental abilities. "Steve," she prompted and he did as she requested, despite feeling rather foolish to be rifling through women's clothing looking for a stick. The fact that Hermione was telling the truth and there_ was _a stick in the torn fabric of her blouse, somehow didn't give Steve much comfort._

 _He could clearly see that it was more than just a 'stick'. The shadowy conditions in his room prevented him from seeing the item perfectly but he could feel that while the wood was smooth and polished at one end, the other half had raised, twisting markings. Hermione was still lying with her chest against the floor but she adapted her position so that she held her left hand out to him and he passed the stick to her wordlessly. She frowned at the stick, holding it awkwardly, and then almost seemed to remember that he was there._

" _It would probably be best if you turned away," she told him. "The less you see, the less you're keeping from Bucky."_

 _Bucky…_

 _With a flash of guilt, Steve realised that his best friend had barely crossed his mind at all in the last few minutes. Seeing his best friend's wife severely wounded at his front door, it should have been Steve's first instinct to seek out Bucky, but he'd been so startled by Hermione's injuries that he'd been entirely focused on helping the young woman before him. How on earth was he going to explain all this to Bucky? But then he recalled_ exactly _what Hermione had said about him_ keeping _this from Bucky and he resisted the urge to groan – they weren't returning to all of this again, were they?_

" _Steve," Hermione prompted again as he stared at her wordlessly. He dreaded to think what would become of his friendship with Bucky were the other man to walk in now to see his wife laying, naked from the waist upwards, on Steve's floor with a bullet hole in her back and the remnants of her clothes haphazardly strewn across the room from where he'd torn them from her body._

 _Hermione shifted slightly, the movement drawing his eyes to a part of her body that had previously been hidden from his view due to his being positioned behind her. At the briefest sight of the swell of her breast, he turned at once, unable to hide a small intake of breath at the shock._

" _That wasn't actually what I was talking about," she said, her voice still strained, "but that's probably an equally valid point."_

 _Through his mortification, he couldn't help but detect the slightest hint of humour in her voice that he thought was a little uncalled for in the situation. He wanted to defend himself, to reassure her that he hadn't really seen anything but her next words left him more than a little stunned._

" _I'm probably going to scream in a moment, Steve," she told him calmly, "But nobody else will hear it apart from us two, I promise. When I tell you it's safe, will you turn back and… and do what you can for me?"_

 _Her voice was trembling and his mind swirled with confused thoughts about what she meant, about what was about to happen. "Hermione, I – "_

" _Ready?" she called shakily, though whether she was talking to him or trying to gee herself up, he wasn't sure._

 _She said two words quietly, the second of which he though t was_ 'bullet' _but then, as warned, Hermione screamed and the sound of it blasted all thoughts from his mind. A chill swept down his spine, making goosebumps appear all over his body, and he had to fight with every fibre of his being to stop himself turning at once. He had absolutely no faith in her proclamation that her piercing, agonised scream wouldn't wake everybody in the barracks but then she finally stopped and he waited with bated breath. He heard her pant a couple of times and then, in the smallest voice he'd ever heard from her, she choked out, "Steve?"_

 _He turned and knelt down beside her back again. The wound was oozing fresh blood and he grabbed one of his spare, clean shirts and held it against her back, applying pressure. "What did you do?" he asked, still unsettled by her scream and the way her whole body was trembling._

" _The bullet is out," she told him in that small voice that was so unlike her._

" _The bullet," he repeated, unable to comprehend what she had said._

" _It needed to come out before I could start healing," she explained. Her voice was getting stronger but the way her breathing hitched every few seconds led him to believe that she was crying. He gave the back of her head a hard look and took in what she'd said. Although the logic of getting the bullet out made complete sense, the fact that she had physically done so with nothing but a decorative stick to assist her, left Steve unsettled. He wouldn't say that he was used to Hermione doing impossible things but the lengths she would go to in order to maintain her secrets – digging a bullet out of her own back, for example – left him completely floored._

 _She shifted under his hands and he saw her stick come into his line of sight as she laid it across her own back. "Can you point it at the wound?" she asked him, "It needs to be as close as possible." Steve removed his blood-soaked shirt from her back and pushed the stick upwards a couple of inches._

" _It's lined up," he murmured. "The tip is pointing at the wound."_

" _Thank you," she breathed. He was about to ask her what he should do next when she said something that he didn't quite catch. A cracking noise came from Hermione's chest and she whimpered._

 _Steve stared at the bare torso beneath him in complete shock. "What… Was that…" he began, before finally asking, "Did you just do what I think you did?"_

" _The damage to my ribs has been repaired," she murmured._

 _Steve stood abruptly and took a couple of quick steps away from her before he could tell himself to get a grip. He'd seen more unbelievable things than that before, hadn't he? He'd even experienced some first-hand._

 _He stared down at the item that Hermione was still grasping in her left hand. He thought it was fair to conclude that it was far more than a pretty stick…_

" _I need the left pocket of my coat," she told him and he obeyed her request wordlessly, placing the ripped clothing in front of her._

 _There was still a hole in her back where the blood shone almost black. He wondered whether he should reapply pressure to the wound but, as she hadn't requested he do so, he stood mutely, waiting for her next instruction._

 _She had managed to retrieve a small bottle from the pocket after placing the stick aside. "I need you to put a few drops of this on my wound," she said. "It'll be done after this, I promise."_

 _Steve picked up the bottle and took out the dropper attached to the lid. He didn't see how they could be 'done' after a few drops of the brown liquid but he knew better than to question her by now. He did as instructed and was a little alarmed when green smoke billowed upward as it made contact with her skin. Once it had cleared, he peered down at her wound and saw that new skin had covered where the bullet had torn through her flesh. The area was still inflamed but it looked as though she was already well on the road to recovery._

 _Hermione let out a long breath and he saw the different parts of her back shift as she tentatively tested out her repairs._

 _Steve stood and grabbed another spare shirt, gently dropping it next to her head._

" _Thank you," she murmured, sitting up so that she could put it on and Steve turned his back on her quickly. "I mean it, Steve," she continued behind him. "Thank you. I never could have healed myself without you."_

" _It's fine," he replied shortly. He felt angry with her and he didn't really understand why. Ever since he'd met her he'd known that she had secrets. He'd long abandoned the possibility that Hermione presented a danger to himself or Bucky and he'd accepted that there were things about her that he would never know; would never understand. The things she was capable of were so incredible that he could very well understand that part of her life had to be top secret. He wondered who she answered to, who she'd be in trouble with if it was discovered that he knew a little of what she could do. He also wondered how many other people there were like her and that unknown number worried him a little. Thinking about Hermione and her secrets always made his head hurt and he didn't appreciate the distraction when he had HYDRA to focus on._

 _He felt her touch on his shoulder and he turned. He didn't know if it was because her face was still so pale and pained, or if his shirt on her body was playing tricks on his perception, but she had never looked so vulnerable. His anger melted away._

 _She attempted a small smile. "I know I have no right to barge into your life like this," she said contritely. "I'm sorry, Steve."_

 _He shook his head. "You do everything you can to keep Bucky safe," he reminded her. "And I'd be grateful for that if he was simply just one of the men under my command, but he's my best friend, too. You can barge into my life whenever you want, whenever you need to."_

 _Her smile was genuine this time. "Thank you."_

 _He nodded. "Are – are you sure you're all right?"_

" _I'll be a little sore for a few days but I think everything's gone as well as it could have," she replied._

" _Good," he said. She bent down to start gathering her torn clothes and he frowned. "I take it you were doing something you shouldn't have been doing if you couldn't go to the official people who know about you in order to get yourself treated."_

 _Hermione laughed as she stood up with the bundle of rags in her arms, but he saw that the amusement didn't quite reach her eyes. "Steve, I'm always doing something I shouldn't be doing."_

 _She kissed his cheek and then disappeared before his eyes with a slight popping noise…_

Steve stared down at the familiar clothing with a newfound sense of unease swirling in his stomach. He hadn't realised it at the time, but Hermione had taken with her the stained shirt he'd used to stem the flow of blood, as well as her torn garments. A couple of days after he'd helped her with her wound, he'd found both shirts – the bloodied one and the one she'd been wearing when she'd left – expertly cleaned and neatly folded on his bed. He'd smiled and stowed them with his others.

For some reason, he'd unconsciously chosen to never wear _her_ shirts again.

Now, however, he knew the reason.

He grabbed the shirts roughly, intending to donate them somewhere so that they'd actually be of use to someone (and he wouldn't hate himself a little bit every time he saw them) but he paused when he jerked open the doorway. He recalled seeing her standing there, and then his brain flitted through different images of her from that night.

The fabric creased in his grip as he clenched his hands into fists; an internal battle raging within him.

It took a great deal of strength to make himself continue with his journey to rid himself of the shirts, _her_ shirts, but it was the only way he could anticipate being able to look at himself the next time he needed to use a mirror.

* * *

A/N Thank you for reading :)

I know it was a bit of a wait for this update so sorry about that. I'm pushing through a monster headache to get this out to you today so please let me know what you think in a review to distract me from my painful head!

Red

P.S. If you want to read more of my writing, I've recently started a couple of HP stories - both with a Hermione/Dolohov pairing - so go check them out!


	14. Chapter 14

A/N: Hi guys! Long time, no see, huh? Sorry about that. I don't have any reason for the long break! Let's just get on with the story, yeah?

* * *

 _May 1944_

" _I can't believe we've finally convinced you," Hermione said, beaming up at Steve and looping her free arm through his as she squeezed Bucky's hand tightly._

 _Both men laughed at her enthusiasm._

" _I_ have _been out dancing before, Hermione," Steve pointed out teasingly._

" _Not since I've known you," she countered._

" _And I never actually saw you dance on the rare occasions that you would come with me back home," Bucky added and Steve let out of a derisive scoff._

" _No one wanted to dance with me then, Buck," he stated and Hermione had to think for a second how that could be possible: surely the girls in New York would have been desperate to dance with such a handsome and thoughtful man. She'd only ever known Steve in his serum-altered body so it was difficult for her to picture him as the small, skinny guy he'd described himself as being. She marvelled, once again, how muggles were able to achieve such astonishing feats without magic._

" _Well, I'm sure that won't be the case tonight," Hermione told him confidently. "You'd better save me the first dance because I doubt I'll get another opportunity for the rest of the night!"_

 _Steve sent her a disbelieving look and then nodded his head towards Bucky. "And your husband doesn't have a problem with that?"_

Husband. _Hermione felt the familiar rush of adrenaline whenever she remembered the fact that she was married_. _It was a mostly pleasant sensation and there was no doubting her love for Bucky, but it was still a little unsettling for her whenever she took stock of how much her life had changed recently. She turned towards him and her unease was drowned out by the force of the affection that swept from her heart at the sight of him. Just knowing that he was there, his fingers twined between hers, made her feel invincible; that she could weather this messed-up storm she found herself in as long as he was right there with her. His obligation to the army, to this devastating war, prevented her from experiencing that comforting feeling very often, so she tried to draw as much strength from his presence as she could to keep her going in the lonely, depressing weeks she suffered without him when she didn't know if she would ever see him again…_

" _I'll let you have the first dance, Steve," Bucky permitted with overt graciousness, bringing Hermione back to the present, "because_ I'll _get to dance with Hermione for the rest of the night and I'm the lucky fella that gets to take her home." Bucky raised their joined hands to his lips and kissed their entwined fingers, making her body sing. Then he grinned at his wife. "Not that it would really matter if I had a problem with it because you'd go ahead and do it anyway." There was no frustration or disapproval in his voice and Hermione felt another rush of warmth for the man she loved: she doubted that there were many men from this time who would be so accepting of a strong-minded, independent woman._

 _They soon arrived at their destination and were able to find the other members of the Howling Commandos that were in attendance. The venue was crowded with people and there was an excited buzz as the young people made the most of the occasion. While there were many things that Hermione didn't enjoy about living over fifty years in the past, the dance halls and night clubs certainly didn't fall into that category. She wished that she'd had more opportunities in the nineties to just go out with her friends and have fun. Of course, she'd had a war to fight that she'd had no chance of escaping from for a night or two, but even in the muggle world the types of nightclubs that became popular in her time didn't hold the same sort of appeal to her._

 _After taking a few minutes to enquire after each of the Howling Commandos, Hermione worked her way back round to Steve. He laughed and shook his head when he saw her coming but stood up anyway. "Alright, Mrs Barnes," he said grudgingly, though she knew he was exaggerating. "If you insist."_

" _You make it sound like dancing with me is such a chore!" she teased in mock-offence, hands on her hips._

" _Dancing with anyone is a trial for me," he corrected, shrugging, "but I know I'm better off with you than anyone else."_

 _Hermione smiled at him supportively and tucked her arm through his as they turned towards the dance floor. "Go easy on him," Bucky said as they passed him, delivering a swift kiss to her cheek._

" _I'll try," she said lightly._

 _The floor was rather crowded (thanks, no doubt, to the large number of soldiers that had arrived from across the Atlantic ready for the impending invasion of Normandy that she had to pretend she knew nothing about) but Hermione suspected that it probably suited Steve better if he felt he could hide amidst the other dancers. They took up casual dance positions and she could see Steve glancing at the couples around him to try and gauge what was expected of him._

" _You're thinking too much," she told him loudly to be heard over the band, drawing his attention back to her. "That's what I used to do when I first started dancing because I thought there was only one way of moving. Here," she offered, taking the lead and showing him how to move his upper body and feet in time with the music. They'd danced before at her wedding, of course, but the music had been much slower then and they'd done little more than step from side-to-side. Over the course of the next few minutes, she gently coached him through the basic dance steps that would give him a good grounding to dance with other women. He picked them up easily and seemed much more surprised about this than Hermione._

" _Well, the serum you were injected with was supposed to improve your agility and ability to process new information, wasn't it?"_ _she reminded him_.

 _He successfully spun her out and then back in without losing the beat of the music and he laughed. "I know, but this is something I never thought I'd be able to do. The skinny, little Brooklyn kid inside of me is very happy right now." He expressed his pleasure by shifting his hand under her arm and easily lifting her off the ground in an exaggerated jump. As his fingers smoothed over her back, she saw his expression grow a little troubled._

" _What is it?" she asked in concern._

" _Your back – the wound – I assume it, it healed all right?" he asked falteringly._

 _Hermione nodded. "It's fine. Thank you: both for asking and taking care of me that night." They'd been in each other's company a handful of times since the incident: dinner, drinks at the Crown and a couple of occasions where he'd accompanied her and Bucky when giving out supplies to those in need, but they'd never been alone long another to talk privately. "You'll be pleased to know that I've been taking extra precautions since then."_

 _Steve nodded. "Good. If that bullet had struck you an inch further in any direction…" he trailed off and frowned. "I can hardly bear to think about it."_

 _Guilt swam in her stomach and not for the first time. "I'm so glad Bucky's got you," she told him as an unbidden picture of a disconsolate Bucky appeared in her mind._

 _Silence settled between them for a few moments before Steve announced in a forcefully cheerful tone, "I'd miss you too, you know."_

 _Hermione laughed. "Really?" she asked in disbelief. "You like all the trouble I bring to your life, do you?"_

" _You're not that much trouble," he replied, before clarifying, "_ anymore _." They both laughed again and Hermione found it hard to believe that the mere sight of him used to unsettle her so much. Once they'd put their differences aside, she found that she enjoyed his company very much. He always seemed so serious whenever the Howling Commandos would come back from their exploits in Europe, as though he felt the responsibility of defeating HYDRA and ending the war fell solely on his shoulders. She'd spent so many years seeing the same expression on Harry's face and she'd always tried her upmost to stand by her best friend every step of the way. When it came to Steve - and Bucky, to an extent – her assistance couldn't be as blatant because, for a variety of reasons, she couldn't exactly join the Howling Commandos on their missions. So, though she did what she could in secret to tackle HYDRA, her main priority was to try and help him just forget the war for a couple of hours and enjoy himself. Sometimes she'd tease and joke with him, other times she'd ask him questions about the States or she'd find a paper or novel they could discuss. (Bucky wasn't at all interested in their academic discussions but Hermione had other ways to keep his mind away from the war!) It was only now that she reflected on it that she realised the strength of her friendship with Steve and how important his happiness was to her._

 _It seemed he was thinking along similar lines because he said, "You know, I've never been friends with a girl before."_

" _What about Peggy?" she asked but he pulled a conflicted face._

" _That's different," he said. "Peggy was able to look past what nearly everyone else saw when they looked at me and she believed in me after the serum when no one else would, but I still don't feel comfortable around her yet."_

 _Hermione smiled sympathetically, having witnessed Steve's awkwardness in the beautiful, confident agent's presence, and felt a rush of warmth at the implication that he felt comfortable around her: his_ friend _. She sighed contentedly, far happier than she ever could have believed she'd be when she'd realised she was stuck in Wartime Britain, completely alone. "It's sweet that you say you'd miss me, but I don't plan on getting killed any time soon so I hope you're happy to be stuck with me for a while longer, friend."_

 _Steve chuckled. "More than happy, friend."_

" _So, I see that I'm actually going to have to physically break you up," a familiar voice called from over her shoulder and Hermione turned around. "That was one very long dance," Bucky said, eyebrow raised._

" _I couldn't just leave him when the first song ended – he was still hopeless," she defended._

" _I would act offended but she's right," Steve admitted._

" _But now I declare you ready to dance with other women," she announced, placing her hands solemnly on his shoulders. She saw the hesitation in his eyes and gave him a reassuring squeeze. "You'll be fine, Steve. You just need to ask a girl and get it over with – women really aren't that scary, I promise."_

 _Bucky patted him on the back supportively and Steve gave them both an affirming nod before disappearing into the crowd in search of a dance partner. Hermione reached out for Bucky's hand and he pulled her towards him eagerly, their bodies slotting together with an easy familiarity._

 _He tilted his head downwards so that he could murmur in her ear, "I love you so much." He kissed her cheek discretely and then straightened his posture and held her hand against his heart. "It means the world to me that you and Steve get along so well now…"_

Hermione knocked forcefully on Steve's door _again_. "I know you're in there, Steve" she said, a cross tone entering her voice. "Please open the door – I just want to talk to you!"

Knock, knock, knock.

Silence.

"Steve!"

Sadness crept over her at the lack of response.

Knock, knock, knock.

Silence.

She leant her forehead against the unmoving door. "I don't understand what I've done wrong," she said quietly. "Please tell me… I miss you." A tear trickled down her cheek but she didn't try and brush it away. She took a couple of steps backwards and stared at the door disconsolately. "I just want my friend back," she sighed and then turned and walked away.

* * *

A/N: I thought we'd go for a slight change by hearing from Hermione's PoV instead. Hope you liked it! Fingers crossed there won't be a long wait until the next chapter.

You may have noticed that this story now has a cover image. Many thanks to theundyinglands for making one for me!

Don't forget to review!

Love,

Red


	15. Chapter 15

A/N Thank you for your support of this fic!

* * *

July 1944

London looked both better and worse in the summer sunshine, Steve realised as he savoured the warmth of the light on his back. Whilst the whole atmosphere in the city was generally more positive in the sun (helped, of course, by the advancement of the Allies across continental Europe) and it was a pleasant change not to have to huddle up tight against the cold, the bright July days also showed up how much of London had been reduced to rubble in this hellish conflict.

Steve and his team were only back for a short respite before another prolonged assault against Schmidt's forces during the rest of summer. They'd been on the attack for over six weeks in the southern Mediterranean and the sum of all their efforts had led to the successful destruction of a large HYDRA base in Greece last week. The Howling Commandos had certainly earned their break and, unsurprisingly, none of them had been more eager to return than Bucky. In fact, apart from celebratory drinks in the Crown on their first evening back, Steve hadn't seen his best friend since their arrival in the city as he was obviously making up for lost time with his wife.

Hermione had been overjoyed at their return and her beaming smile had lit up the pub all night. She had pledged to visit and spend some time with Steve but Bucky had loudly rejected that plan as he stated his intention to keep her to himself as much as possible. Hermione hadn't completely forgotten Steve, though, as he'd discovered when he'd woken up that morning to discover a wrapped parcel next to his bed, bearing a small card identifying her as the sender and wishing him a 'Happy Birthday'. After getting over his initial surprise – that she had managed to get the gift into his room without him noticing _and_ that she even knew it was his birthday, or even that she would decide to get him a present at all – he'd unwrapped the parcel with a grin.

The plain, brown packing paper gave way to reveal two items. The first was a slim, highly polished, wooden box that contained some sketching pencils and watercolour paints. A note from Hermione stated that she hoped that he could use the art set to help him unwind between missions, and she had added extra protection to the box so that it could stand up to the rigours of warfare. (The box looked incredibly normal to Steve but he knew better than to doubt Hermione's ability to achieve unexpected results.) He was very touched that she had recalled a brief conversation they'd had a few months ago when he'd mentioned that sketching was a passing hobby of his.

He'd turned to the second item. It was a small bundle, tightly wrapped in a leather cloth. A single envelope sat atop it, labelled 'Read Now'. Steve picked it up curiously and read the short letter enclosed within:

 _Happy Birthday, Steve! While I think it's fair to say that we got off to a rocky start, it truly makes happy to be able to call you my dear friend. There's little I value more than friendship and, as you're probably aware, not much I wouldn't do for those I care about. Unfortunately, as long as this war keeps us away from each other for long periods of time, my opportunities to live-out the role of friend are much less frequent than I'd like. So, in order to overcome this, I have devised a way of offering you my friendship from afar. I hope they come in use. Hermione._

Steve had placed her letter to one side, deeply touched by the affection behind her words, and picked up the bundle. When he withdrew the leather covering, he saw that there was a series of envelopes, each carrying a different heading in Hermione's handwriting: _read when you need to be strong, read when you're happy, read when you need a laugh, read when you're lonely, read when you need encouragement, read when you need a little reminder of who you really are, read when you're bored, read when you're worried, read when something good has happened, read when you're frustrated, read when you need some intelligent musings, read when something bad has happened, read when you're about to do something dangerous, read when you're about to do something dangerous_ again.

Steve had stared at the collection of letters, absolutely floored that she would take the time and effort to do something so unbelievably thoughtful just for him.

Even now, over an hour later as he walked through the sun-bright city streets to her lodgings, he was still struggling to come to terms with the kindness of her gift. He wasn't used to this type of friendship. What he had with Bucky was more like a brotherhood: an unswerving kinship that he knew would stand firm through any test. He and Bucky had each other's back but they didn't make any sweeping gestures of their friendship – he'd be deeply surprised if Bucky got him anything other than a celebratory drink at the Crown tonight to mark his birthday. His relationship with Hermione – already his first friendship with a woman – was now entering even more deeply into uncharted waters and he didn't really know how to respond. First and foremost, though, he simply needed to thank her.

There was no security at the main entrance of Hermione's building (something that Steve knew rather bothered Bucky, despite Hermione's assurances that she was quite safe) and he climbed two flights of stairs to reach her door. It wasn't particularly early in the morning but he hoped that he wasn't disturbing them when he knocked on the door. There were a few moments of silence before he heard soft footsteps approaching. There was the sound of the latch being drawn back and then the door was pulled open.

Hermione looked up at him with faint shock. "Steve!" she gasped, and then smiled. "What a lovely surprise, come in," she requested. She opened the door wider so that he could come in but she turned away at the first opportunity and Steve had a very strong feeling that he knew the reason why. Hermione carried on talking, though, and he suspected that she did so to prevent him from voicing his concerns. "It's very nice of you to pop over on your birthday – I think we're all due to have drinks in the Crown tonight so we'll be seeing you anyway. Do you want a cup of tea?" she asked but didn't give him time to respond before continuing, "I'll put the kettle on." She fussed over the tiny stove for a few seconds and said, "Bucky's not here, by the way, he's popped out so you're stuck with just me for the moment."

Steve watched her with wary concern. The redness of her eyes had worried him the instant she'd opened the door and, despite his being deeply unaccustomed to female tears, he'd wanted to address the cause of her distress straight away. However, her efforts to distract him from the fact that she'd been crying suggested that she didn't want him to see and, therefore, she was unlikely to be inclined to talk about it. He was struck with indecision: would a good friend respect her wishes and ignore her distress or would they push on to discover the cause and offer comfort? Steve thought of the bundle of letters sitting by his bedside and, after considering what Hermione was likely to do if the situation was reversed, he made up his mind.

"Hermione," he said softly.

Her hand had been reaching towards a couple of teacups on the shelf above her but she paused at his tone. She sighed and looked back at him guardedly. "What is it?"

"You've been crying," he stated gently. "What's wrong?"

Hermione grimaced but she attempted to turn it into a smile. "That's really kind of you, Steve, but it's nothing you need to worry about."

This didn't really assuage his concerns and he struggled to find the right words to say to express this without pushing her too far. "I just," he began and then cleared his throat. "If that's true then great, but if there's something bothering you I want you to know that you can talk to me – this friendship runs both ways, you know. I'll always be here if you need me."

If he'd been hoping that his little speech would cheer her up, he was rather dismayed to see more tears slip down her cheeks. He stepped towards her quickly. "Hermione, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to –" he started to apologise but stopped abruptly when she laughed.

"No, please, Steve, you haven't," she shook her head as he watched her, mildly bewildered. "I'm just emotional at the moment and your lovely words set me off again." She reached into a pocket of her dress and pulled out a handkerchief to dab at her eyes, before letting out a loud sigh. "Really, though, nothing _is_ actually wrong," she reassured him, smiling and gently squeezing his arm to reinforce the point. She reached up for the teacups that she'd meant to get a few minutes earlier as a contemplative look crossed her face. "I have to focus so hard on being strong when Bucky's not here – I keep myself busy so that I don't have a lot of time to think about what he's doing and how much his absence physically hurts me. But it's not just him: I told you how my friends and family are no longer around, didn't I?"

Steve nodded. "When we first met – well, when we were first introduced," he corrected, causing her to smile, possibly recalling their first dramatic encounter in Austria.

"I keep all of those emotions locked down tight most of the time but when Bucky's back, I just _feel_ things a lot more easily," she said and Steve could hear the raw emotion in her words, making an unexpected shiver run along his spine. She busied herself with the teapot as she explained, "Seeing him in front of my eyes – just being able to reach out and touch him – it's like my heart is raw and exposed and I can't keep my feelings in check. Love makes you vulnerable, doesn't it?" She glanced up at him with tear-rimmed eyes and his heart beat surprisingly hard inside his chest. "And then all it takes is for me to think about him putting himself in danger, or think of something that I want to talk about with my friends but can't, or," she paused and a tear rolled down her cheek before she could wipe it away. "Or one of you not coming back…" She grimaced and then released a little sob, "Of _him_ not coming back."

She sobbed again and lifted both her hands to cover her face. Steve panicked for just a moment before stepping forwards and offering his presence as a source of comfort. Hermione leant against him for just a few seconds, but he couldn't think of anything to say to placate her because they both knew that he could make no assurances about Bucky's welfare. Going up against HYDRA was incredibly dangerous and Hermione had seen for herself how technologically-advanced their enemy was. It would be an insult to their burgeoning companionship if Steve attempted to placate her by claiming that she had nothing to worry about; that everything would be alright.

"I'm sorry," Hermione mumbled, wiping forcefully at her eyes again. "It isn't fair of me to unload my anxieties onto you."

Steve gripped her upper arm and smiled at her reassuringly. "Don't apologise – I offered, remember?"

Hermione snorted softly. "I doubt this is quite what you signed up for," she muttered, indicating at her tear-streaked face before reaching for her handkerchief again. "Bucky can't stand it when I cry – that's why he went out."

Steve could see on her face that Bucky's disappearing act at her tears caused her greater distress, and he felt a large amount of compassion for her. "He's always been like that," he told her. "If things got too much at home when we were kids, he'd come and seek me out."

Hermione was watching him closely. "And that happened a lot?"

Steve shrugged, not comfortable with sharing much more about Bucky's childhood if he hadn't done so himself. "More often than not."

Hermione bit her lip. "I see." The kettle behind her started whistling loudly and Steve felt a little relieved as she turned to it eagerly – both of them seeming to welcome the distraction. Steve was still very much on edge due to his unfamiliarity with the situation but he felt that he was doing a passable job so far.

"So, what brought you over our way?" Hermione asked as she made up the tea. "Not that there needs to be a reason, of course – you're always welcome." She flashed him a smile over her shoulder which he returned.

"I came over to say thank you," he said.

"Thank you?" she repeated, looking a little unsure, and then her eyes widened with realisation. "Oh! You liked the gifts?"

Steve chuckled. "That's a bit of an understatement. You _really_ shouldn't have gone to all that effort for me."

She waved her hand dismissively. "Don't be silly – it's your birthday! You ask for so little despite everything that you do, so of course I'm going to treat you when the occasion calls for it. Do you have an idea of what you're going to draw first?" she asked, handing him his cup and saucer and moving over to her small table so they could sit opposite one another.

"None," Steve admitted, sliding into the chair. "You?" he proposed, prompting another snort from her. "You did buy me the art supplies."

"That hardly qualifies me as being worth drawing, Steve!" she argued, laughing at herself. "I'm sure you'll find a much more worthy subject practically anywhere you look."

"Somehow I doubt that," he replied. "I can assure you that you're the most eye-catching person wherever you go."

Hermione sent him a look that plainly told him that she didn't believe him, but he wasn't exaggerating. Maybe it was because the majority of his time was spent in dark, grim conditions where danger could strike at any moment – there was certainly no glamour to war – and so, since their ceasing of hostilities, he would find that Hermione's mere compassionate, joyous presence would automatically lift his spirits. Her bright intelligence challenged him in a different way to anyone else and yet she would tease him as much as any of his men. Despite her protestations to the contrary, she was a beautiful woman in her own right, but her fierce passion and kindheartedness only enhanced this beauty. And that was without the added allure she had thanks to her secretive double life that, as far as he was aware, only Steve knew about. All in all, it wasn't surprising that his eyes and thoughts were always pulled towards the woman opposite him.

Perhaps some of his earnestness showed in his expression because she smiled and shook her head a little. "You're very sweet," she said, lifting her teacup upwards and blowing on it gently. She obviously deemed it too hot to drink yet for she lowered it again but raised an eyebrow teasingly at him. "But clearly deluded. I blame the serum."

Steve chuckled and took a sip of tea. "I'll pass on your concerns to the powers-that-be."

Hermione nodded seriously. "Make sure you do."

He replaced his teacup atop the saucer with a faint _chink_ sound. "Anyway, I'm incredibly grateful for the art set but, Hermione, those letters… I… that was beyond anything…" he struggled.

Her sunny expression softened. "I didn't know what else to give you that would be a true reflection of my affections," she admitted sincerely. "I hate not being able to help more directly and I just wanted you to know that I'm with you if you need me." She reached out and squeezed his hand with a supportive smile. He'd read those sentiments in her first letter but having her say them right in front of him really resonated within his chest. "Bucky found them really comforting the last time you were all away."

"I'll bet," Steve muttered shortly, suddenly feeling strangely lightheaded. "It was such a thoughtful gesture; I really can't thank you enough."

Hermione's smile widened, her hand still on his. "You're very welcome. In times like these I think it's so important to let people know how much they mean to you. We may have only known each other for a few months – and liked each other for even less," she added, eyes sparkling, "but I'm pretty confident in stating that I love you very dearly, Steve."

She patted his hand lightly and then withdrew her touch to take a sip of her tea. Her manner was bright and comfortable, as though she hardly had a care in the world – a stark contrast to how she'd been a few minutes earlier and the complete opposite to how Steve was feeling.

A prickling sensation had been creeping over his skin for the last couple of minutes, leaving him feeling hot and slightly nauseated, but he had no idea as to its cause. However, then he'd opened his mouth to respond, like for like, to Hermione's words and they'd stuck in his throat with a devastating revelation that threatened to ruin everything he held dear. He couldn't say those words back to Hermione because he didn't love her: he was _in_ love with her.

* * *

A/N So, we've reached THAT moment. No more flashbacks, the drama starts here!

Let me know what you think!

Red


	16. Chapter 16

A/N Hi guys! Yes, it's really me! It's been quite a while, huh? Unfortunately my motivation to write deserted me for a few months on all my stories (which was extremely irritating when I have so many on the go) but this one suddenly flared to life. Hooray!

After a few requests for one, this is a Bucky PoV. When I saw that it was Sebastian Stan's birthday today I knew it was a sign that I had to get this chapter finished and up for you all. I'm sorry I didn't get a chance to respond to your reviews this time but a HUGE thank you to you all, as always.

So, here's the longest chapter yet to make up for the long wait...

* * *

Bucky rapped on the door anxiously. He felt bad for the earliness of the hour - especially when there was probably nothing to worry about - but he found he was past the limit of his self-restraint.

Steve opened the door after a couple of seconds, thankfully not looking at all sleep-addled which (thanks to the months they had worked alongside each other) Bucky knew to be one of the benefits of the serum his best friend had been injected with. Steve's expression showed surprise for only a moment before his gaze became concerned. "Buck, what is it? What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry for waking you," Bucky began but his friend waved his hand, showing that his comment wasn't necessary. "It's Hermione," Bucky revealed, too caught up in his own unease to notice Steve's posture become the smallest bit wary and defensive at the name of his wife. "She hasn't come home," he explained.

"Where did she say she was going before she went out?" Steve asked. "How long did she say she'd be?"

Bucky shook his head. "That's just it: I haven't seen her since we got back."

Surprise, confusion and concern flitted across Steve's face along with a couple of emotions Bucky wasn't confident in identifying but at least Steve now knew why Bucky was so concerned: they had arrived back in London not long after midday but it was now less than an hour away from dawn.

"Have you always been able to find her straight away before now?" Steve asked.

"Within a couple of hours," Bucky replied. "It's not like she knows when I'm due to be back and she keeps herself busy, so I tried all her usual haunts but there was no sign. I figured it was best to wait for her to turn up at home…" His voice trailed off as his mind conjured up a variety of alarming explanations for his wife's absence just like it had all evening. He shook his head and refocused his gaze on his best friend. "What do I do, Steve?"

Uncertainty pulled Steve's mouth down into a frown. "I don't… I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, Buck," his said, his voice and demeanour becoming more assertive. "I'll come back with you to Hermione's lodgings - we'll discuss strategies on the way. She might have even turned up by the time we get there. She's capable of looking after herself, you know that - it's why she's able to look after so many others too." Steve smiled reassuringly at him but Bucky didn't even attempt to return it. Hermione was able to look after herself but he knew that there were bad people here in London, not just over on the continent. If someone with ill intentions decided to attack Hermione when she was on her own then Bucky didn't see there was much she could do to stop them.

As they crossed through the dark streets, Bucky told Steve that when he had spoken to some of the other residents of Hermione's building, none of them could recall seeing her for a few days. "But apparently that's not out of the ordinary," Bucky added.

"Oh, well, that's good news, isn't it?" Steve said.

"Is it?" Bucky responded doubtfully. "Somehow I don't find the revelation that my wife frequently stays away from home for days at a time to be of great comfort."

It was too dark to see the expression on Steve's face but his tone was even and calm when he replied, "If she has had longer absences from home before then she's always come back safely from them, hasn't she? This time will be no different, I'm sure of it."

"And the reason behind those long absences?" Bucky asked before he could stop himself. His voice sounded bitter and suspicious and he disliked himself greatly for the feelings that coursed through his body and his inability to control his emotions.

"The neighbours might be mistaken, Buck," Steve pointed out. "Hermione doesn't strike me as the type to make a lot of noise at home so I doubt they truly know when she's there or not." Bucky's silence expressed his view that this argument didn't stand to reason. If it had just been one of the building's occupants to make the claim then that would be one thing, but it had been a handful and all of them lived close enough to Hermione to have knowledge of her comings and goings.

"And if they're not mistaken?" Bucky pressed.

"If they're not mistaken," Steve began, still sounding calm, "there's bound to be a perfectly reasonable explanation."

"Then why has she never mentioned it before?" Bucky asked, his voice much louder than was advisable at that time and location. His mistrust had been creeping through him during the hours he had been waiting, alone, for Hermione to return but he had managed to dismiss the doubts and suspicions that plagued him. Now that he was forced to speak of what he had learned, a chink had been exposed in his stoicism and his turmoil was being released from within him: his body and, in particular, his heart, experiencing a burning pain that he was unaccustomed with.

Steve stopped and gripped Bucky's arm, his face showing concern for his friend. "I know that you're worried for Hermione's safety but there's no point getting yourself riled up when you don't even know what's happened."

" _Do you_?" Bucky asked heatedly, shoving his arm away.

Steve's brows drew together in confusion. "Buck, what are you talking about?"

"You know what I'm talking about," Bucky accused angrily. "Hermione's secret - the part of her she won't tell me about - you know about it."

Steve held his gaze for a couple of seconds and then looked away with an unmistakably guilty air, giving Bucky a sickening sense of triumph. Since the revelation that Hermione was hiding something from him on the day they had finally become engaged, they had never discussed the matter, but nor had they had to because Hermione had never given him a reason to doubt or worry for her.

Until now.

"I don't know where Hermione is," Steve insisted slowly. "Do you honestly think I'd let you fret and get yourself worked up if I did?"

"I don't know what you know," Bucky sighed in frustration. "I don't know anything!" Had he been foolish to marry a woman who was openly hiding something from him? He had followed his heart where Hermione was concerned from the moment he'd met her and, though things were far from perfect with the war raging around them, had he allowed himself to be swept along by his love and left reason far behind him? "Am I an idiot?" he asked out loud.

"Of course not," Steve maintained.

"She said I could trust her; that I had nothing to worry about," Bucky muttered, thinking back to their conversation outside the Crown before he had gotten on one knee and proposed properly.

"Her absence might have nothing to do with that," Steve pointed out but instead of his words having a reassuring effect, Bucky glanced at him sharply.

"But it _might_ have something to do with her absence?" he asked, the bottom of his stomach falling away with dread.

Steve let out a sound of frustration. "There could be any number of reasons why Hermione isn't at home, Buck." Bucky stayed silent and simply watched him. Once again Steve broke the eye contact. "I don't know what you want me to say," Steve murmured after looking at the ground for a few moments.

Bucky waited no longer than a single beat of his heart. "I want you to tell me what you know."

Steve grimaced. "I can't."

"Why not?"

"Do you not remember what she did tell you: the information is restricted. My knowledge stems from little more than an accidental set of circumstances - she'd much prefer I was wholly unaware, believe me."

Nothing that Steve had said was making Bucky feel any better. In fact, the revelation that Steve's knowledge of Hermione's hidden life was down to nothing more than chance felt like a blow to the gut.

"But if you were never meant to know, why can't I know?" Bucky asked through gritted teeth. "She's my wife!"

Steve looked around them in response to Bucky's raised voice and pulled him along the road to continue their journey to Hermione's lodgings. "We shouldn't talk about this in the middle of the street," he advised lowly.

"Well, where are we supposed to talk about it, huh?" Bucky roared, shoving Steve away from him. "Tell me when we can discuss you keeping secrets about my wife from me."

"Look, I know you're upset - " Steve said calmly, holding his hands up placatingly, but this only irritated Bucky further.

"Don't tell me how I feel," he retorted furiously. "How can you possibly know what this is like: to have the woman you love hiding things from you, not know where she's been going, not knowing if she's coming back and there being nothing you can do about it!" That torrent that had been swirling inside him now felt like it was choking him and he struggled to draw breath.

How had his life fallen apart in the space of a few hours? When they'd arrived back in London, he'd wanted nothing more than to sweep Hermione up into his arms and bask in her love for a few hours. She was the absolute light in his life and she made everything that had happened the moment before he met her seem dull and faded. He'd always prided himself for having a way with the ladies without falling himself but this beautiful, intelligent, independent woman wasn't particularly susceptible to his usual charms and _he_ was the one that had fallen, and fallen _hard._

He'd always planned on falling in love one day but he hadn't realised how vulnerable it left you, how much it could hurt you and make you say or do things that you never thought you were capable of…

His anger left him in a rush, leaving him hollow and ashamed. He ran a hand down his haggard face and tried to stop his shoulders from shaking. "I'm sorry," he choked out. He felt Steve grip his arm bracingly and guilt swirled through him at the way he'd lashed out at his best friend - the one person who'd been a constant support in his life from the start.

"It's OK, Buck," Steve said reassuringly. "We'll find her. Come on." He gave Bucky a gentle push in the direction of Hermione's lodgings and this time he followed numbly.

The first rays of sunshine were just starting to lighten the sky when they approached the building in contemplative silence. A few vehicles and people had passed them in the street as the city woke up and prepared for a brand new day. Bucky had seen and heard it all before but he felt strangely disconnected to the world around him - how could things carry on as normal when his life was in such turmoil? They passed a couple of other residents as they climbed the stairs but Bucky could only nod at them when they greeted him. A small flicker of hope burned within him as he unlocked the door, praying that Hermione was already home.

She wasn't and Bucky's fractured heart crumbled into pieces.

* * *

The police were called.

It was the most sensible thing to do when they didn't know where to start looking for her.

The constable who turned up to take some details about her disappearance didn't look overly impressed when Bucky told him that he didn't know how long his wife had been missing for or have much of an idea where she could be. The officer's demeanour wasn't much improved when Bucky could only offer vague details of Hermione's sporadic freelance work and next to nothing about her family or her life before she'd met him.

"And has your wife ever gone missing before?" the constable asked as he made some jottings in a notebook.

Bucky felt a hot flush of uncertainty race through him. "Never when I've been here," he replied, "but the neighbours informed me that she is sometimes away for days at a time when I'm with my unit."

The constable glanced up sharply at this and stared at Bucky for a while before his mouth turned down in an expression of sympathy. "I see," he muttered, scribbling a couple more words into his book. "And Mrs Barnes has never mentioned the absences before?"

"No..."

Bucky glanced up at Steve and caught the grave expression on his friend's face before he had the chance to change it to something more positive.

"I think I'd better have a word with these neighbours myself," the officer said, rising from his seat and nodding his head politely at the two soldiers. Bucky followed so as to open the door for the constable but before he could it was opened from the other side and the light was restored to Bucky's life.

He only had time to see Hermione's face become surprised at the sight of them all before he had rushed forwards and embraced her tightly, eager as he was to prove that she was really there and not just a figment of his imagination.

"Bucky!" she gasped, staggering slightly as his desperation knocked her off balance.

"Thank God," he murmured and then pulled back to look at her, to check she was alright. "I was so worried."

Her confused expression transformed as she realised what was behind his behaviour. "Because I wasn't here?" she asked, holding her hand against his cheek. He nodded. "Oh, my heart, I'm so sorry. I'm fine, I promise you: I was just helping people a little further away than normal."

Bucky wrapped her in his arms again and felt all the tension of the last few hours drain away as her presence soothed his soul.

The police constable cleared his throat and Bucky reluctantly pulled away from his wife. "I'm glad everything seems to be resolved," the officer said, replacing the helmet atop his head and tucking his notebook away.

Bucky held out his hand and the constable shook it. "Thank you for coming. I'm sorry we took up your time."

"Not at all, sergeant," he replied and then tipped his hat at Steve and Hermione as he left. "Captain, Mrs Barnes."

"I should be going too," Steve said, walking towards the door. "I'm pleased you're back safely, Hermione," he told her but something in his tone seemed off to Bucky.

"Steve," he called and his best friend stopped in the doorway. "I'm sorry about earlier; I shouldn't have taken my emotions out on you."

"It's fine, Buck," Steve replied, but he still didn't sound like his usual self. Before Bucky could say anything further, Steve left, throwing an unconvincing, "See you later," over his shoulder as he went.

Hermione curled her arm around Bucky's waist and looked up at him in confusion. "What was that about? Did you and Steve fall out?"

Bucky didn't reply. He couldn't remember the last time he and Steve had had a proper argument - it was probably when they were just kids - and the possibility that his irate words had caused a rift between them for the first time in years made him feel sick.

"Bucky," Hermione pressed. "What happened?"

Should he tell her? Doing so would reveal his insecurities about Hermione and her secrets. He prided himself on being strong in all senses of the word. Worrying and harbouring suspicions over the secrets Hermione was openly and regrettably hiding from him would only show him to be weak and lacking in faith. He didn't think he could bear to see the look on her face as she realised he was a lesser man than the one she thought she'd married.

But if didn't voice his concerns, he feared they would eat him up inside, flaring up every time he left her to return to the war; that suspicion would poison his brain whenever Hermione did something different to her normal routine; that he would kill their love… He'd seen for himself how a loveless marriage affected everyone around it and that prompted him to speak up, to trust in the bond he had with Hermione.

"When you didn't come home, I asked some of the other residents if they knew where you were," he began, extricating himself from her embrace and positioning himself so that he could see her clearly. "Some of them told me that you often seemed to stay away for days at a time. I didn't know what to think and it, it got twisted in my brain the more I thought about it." Hermione was watching him intently with her soulful brown orbs and she reached out to clutch his fingers in her own. "In the end, I went to Steve to ask his advice and on the way back here I accused him of knowing what was behind your disappearance."

Her eyebrows rose sharply up her forehead. "Why would Steve know anything?" she asked incredulously.

"Because…" Bucky began nervously and then forced himself onwards, "because he knows about your secret."

"Oh," Hermione said and then sighed. "I see."

"When he couldn't confirm that it didn't have anything to do with your disappearance, I tried to get him to tell me what he knew but he refused," Bucky continued heavily, realising just how incredibly weary he was. "I got angry and said things that I shouldn't have."

Hermione removed her hands from his and a jolt panic rushed through him but then she wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his chest. Surprised and relieved, _so_ relieved, he felt himself struggling to contain his emotions again. "I'm sorry," he choked out.

"Why are you apologising to me?" she asked, sounding bewildered.

"I doubted you," he confessed breathlessly, bearing his turmoil, "I let suspicion rule my actions and my heart. I let you down."

Hermione lifted her head and pulled his face down to hers, kissing him soothingly. "You have _not_ let me down," she told him emphatically, resting her forehead against his. He made a noise of protest at her words but she silenced him with another kiss and he drank her in eagerly, wishing that what she said was true. Bucky lifted her and she wrapped her legs around his waist, increasing the intimacy. He wanted to lose himself in her; forget everything about the past few hours and just embrace everything she could give him.

Hermione moved her head back from his and he eagerly kissed a line down her throat. "Bucky," she gasped as his mouth moved lower. "Bucky," she repeated and he looked up. She was crying. The fire that had been racing in his veins cooled immediately.

"What- " he began, heart hammering in his chest.

She brought a hand to his face, her fingers tracing the dark circles under his eyes and the stubble on his jaw. "My heart," she whispered the term of endearment, sounding pained, "what have I done to you? What have I done to _us_?" She pushed at him gently and he numbly returned her feet to the ground. "I thought that admitting I had a secret was the answer, that it would allow me to have everything on my terms." She turned away from him but he heard her murmur, " _How could I be so_ _selfish_?"

Bucky caught her arm before she could go far. "Don't say that. You've been as honest with me as you can if your secret is restricted." She didn't turn back to him and his heart clenched painfully at her avoidance. "Right?" he probed, terrified to be even voicing the question. She didn't answer and all his previous fears flared up just like he knew they would. "Hermione…" An icy dagger had lodged itself in his chest but he somehow found the courage to carry on. "Where have you been these last few days?"

She looked at him over her shoulder and he saw that tears still streamed from her eyes. "I was helping people," she replied firmly but that wasn't enough of an answer and they both knew it.

"Why have you never told me that you stay away from home for days at a time?" he asked, trying to keep calm.

She swallowed thickly. "I didn't want you to worry," she admitted quietly.

"Why would I worry about you helping others?" he asked flatly. She didn't answer. He took a deep breath. "Since we became we engaged, have you ever lied to me?"

She pressed her lips together for a moment and then said softly, "If I have it's only been to protect you."

"Protect me?" Bucky said, throwing his hands up in frustration at all the half-answers she was giving him. "What do I need protection from? You said that what you were hiding was nothing to worry about, you promised on your _heart_ ," he said emotively, walking round to point at the offending organ. "Well, Hermione, this is pretty damn worrying!"

"Bucky, _please_ ," she begged tearfully, clutching at her chest, but whatever she was asking for he wasn't prepared to hear.

"You said you've lied to protect me and I can accept that because I'd do the same for you if it was necessary, but I will always be honest and open with you at every opportunity," he stated, heart in his mouth. "Why do I get the feeling you're keeping more from me than you need to?"

Hermione wrapped her arms around herself, her chest rising and falling rapidly. But, ultimately, she said nothing, devastating Bucky's heart. He turned away from her as his world crumbled away.

"Bucky," she began but he cut across her gruffly.

"Do you not trust me?"

"Of course I do!" she cried tearfully.

"Then _why_?" he yelled, whirling round to face her again. "Why _choose_ to hide things from me?"

" _It's not that simple_!" she moaned, her eyes imploring him to understand.

But he couldn't.

"Let me know when things clear up," he muttered and walked past her.

"You're leaving?" she gasped.

"I need some air," he replied, not bothering to look back at her.

"Bucky…"

Her unasked question hung in the air between them: was he going to come back?

Truthfully, he didn't know.

After having paused for a moment, he reached out to open the door.

"Bucky," she said again, more urgently, but he ignored her.

The door handle suddenly flew out of his grasp and the door slammed shut with a loud bang. Blaming the incident on a freak gust of wind, he reached for the handle again but no matter how hard he tugged it remained closed.

"Bucky."

There was something different in her voice this time that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He turned around.

Hermione look terrified but determined as she pointed a long, slender item in his direction.

"I'm," she said breathlessly and licked her lips, "I'm a witch."

* * *

A/N So, instead of addressing the drama from the previous chapter, I just throw a whole new thread of it in there instead! Obviously, Steve's self-revelation from last time has not been forgotten.

Let me know what you guys think! Are you loving all the drama? Did you see that revelation from Hermione coming? Looking forward to the next chapter?

Lots of love,

Red


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